VA MEDICAL CENTER
Reaching Out to Homeless Veterans
Annual Stand-Down Offers Social Services, Place to Share Painful Memories
|
Discussion Policy
Comments that include profanity or personal attacks or other inappropriate comments or material will be removed from the site. Additionally, entries that are unsigned or contain "signatures" by someone other than the actual author will be removed. Finally, we will take steps to block users who violate any of our posting standards, terms of use or privacy policies or any other policies governing this site. Please review the full rules governing commentaries and discussions. You are fully responsible for the content that you post.
|
Sunday, January 13, 2008; Page C03
The nation's gaze may have shifted to the battlefields of Iraq and Afghanistan. But for the homeless men milling through the lobby of the VA Medical Center in Washington yesterday, memories of Vietnam hung as heavily as the smell of nicotine.
"It's something I try to forget," said John Smith, 59, with a sigh. "But when I come to places like this, it comes right back to my mind."
He was sitting on a white plastic chair, waiting for a haircut. It was among the most popular of the services offered as part of the hospital's Winterhaven Homeless Veterans Stand Down.
The day-long event is held annually to reach the 2,500 homeless veterans in the Washington area. In exchange for stopping by stations ranging from an HIV screening room to employment assistance booths, the veterans were promised a lunch of barbecue chicken and their pick of free clothing.
"At the moment, only about 460 of area homeless veterans are getting services with us," said Michelle Spivak, a spokeswoman for the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs. "So we're hoping this will encourage more of them to take advantage of all the benefits they've earned by serving their country."
Of those already receiving a service, the majority are African Americans of the Vietnam or just post-Vietnam period, Spivak said.
David Hickman, 54, who was drafted and served in the Marine Corps from 1973 to 1975, said he had not set foot in a VA medical clinic until seven months ago. "When I got out of the service, I didn't want anything to do with either the military or the government," Hickman said.
"Well, right when I got out, I did try to go to the VA just to register," he added with a bitter smile. "But there was a Korean War vet there who told me I lost a war, so I should go to the back of the line. I got so angry I clocked him."
For years, Hickman never realized that his chronic, debilitating depression had a connection to Vietnam.
Back then, the conflict was winding down, and his unit was largely charged with carrying out evacuations. Yet he still found himself under repeated fire.
"It made me so nervous," he recalled. "Because you could hear it but you had no idea where it was coming from, and you could never see anyone firing at you."
Nonetheless, Hickman said, at least he was able to return to his ship most nights. "If what I saw was enough to affect me, just think about the guys who fought in the Tet Offensive and had to sleep there for weeks."







