An Open Door For Homeless Vets

June 07, 2006
By Chad Pata

As we remembered those who made the ultimate sacrifice for our country on Memorial Day, let us not forget those we have lost who still walk among us. The Veterans Administration estimates there are 275,000 homeless military veterans strewn across the United States. Eighty percent of those are suffering from some type of substance abuse problem, and until 1993 the VA had no direct way of dealing with the issue. "The VA never had housing for the homeless veterans," says Darryl Vincent, a former Marine and site director for the U.S. VETS-Hawaii program. "And as the chronically homeless have begun to rise, they estimate that one of every three homeless males you meet are veterans." The U.S. VETS program is a non-profit organization that was originally envisioned as a way to help veterans get back on their feet, but has morphed into a housing program for homeless vets. "This was designed as a back-to-work program," says Vincent. "What we found is there were a lot of steps in between before they can even think about going back to work. "We literally take the veterans off the street, put them in a bed, get them food, shelter, clothing and give them the services they need." The Hawaii branch was opened in August 2002, fittingly on the abandoned military base at Barbers Point. Using the old barracks framed by chest-high weeds, they have established two programs to address the problems. The first is the Veterans In Progress program (VIP) that assists veterans who are not prepared for the work force whether through lack of training, substance abuse or mental health issues. For those with substance-abuse problems, they are first treated at the VA, then are brought over to U.S. VETS to help re-establish them in the community. Here they receive counseling according to their needs, as well as vocational training like interviewing skills and computer classes. The services are free to the veterans, but they all have to give back with their time. "Everybody coming in does 40 hours of community service," says Vincent, who notes the program has been at capacity with 98 vets for more than a year. "You walk through the door, do the initial intake, then you are going to give back to the community, do odd jobs around the facility." Once successfully completing the program, and spending 90 consecutive days clean and sober, the vets can move to the other program that provides transitional housing. While this housing is not free - $500 for a private room or $400 for a shared room - it does provide them with a safety net to prevent them from backsliding. The counseling continues, as do the urine tests, to make sure they are staying clean. This, plus the shared experiences of their fellow vets, helps them remain strong. "The beauty part of our program is when you are all done you don't have to look for housing, you can just move right next door," says Vincent, who says the program has an 85 percent successful sobriety rate. "We believe that is our stronghold of why we are so successful. They can stay in a supportive environment, but with less restrictions." Many of the vets going through the VIP program are hesitant to talk with the media. For those freshly back from battlefields in Iraq and Afghanistan, wounds are still too raw to express their stories. One man who was willing to talk is Billie Smith, a 22-year combat veteran who served everywhere from Vietnam to Panama. He suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder and alcoholism, and came to the center in 2004 when he had reached the bottom. He never realized he had these problems while his wife, Jenaette, was around. A good-hearted local girl, she had kept him on the right path through his military career and a decade driving for Hawaiian Transfer Company. But in 1999 she passed away, along with Smith's hopes of a normal life. "I thought I had it all together, and I thought I could deal with it, but then I started drinking," remembers Smith. He took to drinking to dull the pain of his loss, but it only brought more loss. First came a DUI that ended his driving career, but the company got him a job working in the warehouse. But the booze became too much, so he just stopped going to work, stopped paying his bills and eventually lost his house. The alcohol eventually whittled down this mountain of a man until he weighed just 145 pounds when he came to U.S. VETS. "It's just a damn shame, I didn't think this would happen to me," says Smith, who is now up to 275 pounds. "I never wanted alcohol to take me out the way it did. "I've been through all these wars, but this is the biggest war of my life. I thought combat was scary, but the thought of having one drink and messing up my whole life again, now that's scary to me." Not all vets come to this point through substance abuse. Dennis (he declined to give his last name out of deference to his family) was a hard-working man with a house in Makakilo when his ticker failed him. Congestive heart failure suddenly pulled him from the workplace, forcing him to eventually begin living in his truck. Finally, after four years on the road, he mentioned to a doctor at Tripler that he was homeless. The doctor suggested he check out U.S. VETS. He quickly completed the VIP program and now lives in the transitional housing. "It's a good program if you are ready; it's like coming out of a cave and learning to walk upright," says Dennis, who plans to move to Oregon to be with his son as soon as he can save up the money. "I am sure there are thousands more vets out there, but they aren't ready to come off of the streets yet. They are comfortable in their rut." Even for those who are not comfortable in their rut, there is little U.S. VETS can do right now. They are at capacity in the VIP program, yet they don't like to tell anyone no. "We have found that homeless veterans have a hard time coming forward because they were soldiers trained to deal with any situation," says state Rep. Kymberly Pine, the director of development at the program. "They have a lot more shame, and when they take that step we never want to turn them away." While the military has $300 billion to spend in Iraq, the funding for the soldiers it destroyed is tight. Currently, U.S. VETS has enough money to continue the services they now provide, but not enough to do the capital improvements to allow them to serve more veterans. "I personally feel it's actually criminal that this person can serve this country and not have a place to live," says Vincent, who has plans to double their bed space. "We want to fill that temporary gap." In order to facilitate that goal, they are holding their first fundraiser on July 1 called the Iroquois Point Island Club Patriot Fun Walk/Run. It is a 5K course, and they are encouraging everyone participating to wear red, white and blue to show support for the troops. To register, call 682-6051. Another way they are looking to save money is through local churches perhaps donating some meals, as currently they are having to cater in all three meals a day. The work is painstaking, but it does have its rewards. While many were at Punchbowl remembering their loved ones' sacrifices on Memorial Day, Smith will be making the trip there later this month to celebrate his wife's birthday. He plans to go unaccompanied, to show her the progress he has made and to beg her forgiveness. "I am hoping she can see where I am at now," says Smith, who will turn 60 the day before her birthday. "I am hoping I can apologize to her. I blamed her for my drinking. But it was always in me to be drinking. I want to celebrate that day clean and sober, and that is something that would make my wife proud."