Whether the scars are visible or much more than skin deep, the hurt is the same.Thankfully, our local vets can tap an arsenal of services to help them solider on.
by Alison Rich
We reserve Nov. 11 as a day to honor all U.S. veterans for their service to our country, honoring them for service that transcends time. Their reasons for joining as diverse as their backgrounds, these men and women willingly put their lives on the line for Uncle Sam. Duty bound, they leave behind spouses, parents, siblings, friends - essentially their entire support systems - to serve in conditions that sometimes makes a Kubrick flick look tame.
The casualties of war are endless, and death knows no bounds. But imagine, if you will, the impact of war on the injured - those whose wounds cut short their duty and send them home. Broken bones hobble many; others suffer horrific head wounds. Makeshift bombs in Iraq and Afghanistan cause concussion injuries and lost limbs.
Many vets end their tour without a serious physical setback, yet precious few are truly unscathed. Their injuries, while not obvious, are tattooed on their hearts.
Thankfully, just as a physical injury can heal, so, too, can the spirit. There are many innovative programs to help members of the military reacclimatize to civilian life while mending their mind, body and soul. Here locally, we've got a cadre of such services - some long-established, others lately launched - to facilitate that transition and gently reintegrate these wounded warriors back into society and into life.
Admittedly, it's not an easy road. Not only do their own internal and external pains wrack them, but they also are deeply affected by their comrades" injuries as well. According to those who work with wounded warriors, they are often reluctant to share their feelings - the grief remains raw, no matter the passage of time. And that has played out here in the making of this story. Finding people willing to discuss their personal experiences was difficult, but not impossible. Besides acquainting readers with a sampling of special services, we'll also introduce you to some women and men who gave beyond measure to protect our freedoms.
A Home of Their Own Houston-based Helping A Hero cooperates with builders and developers to build homes for wounded veterans that accommodate their disabilities. One home in 2011 was for local hero Marine Cpl. Zach Briseno.
Briseno's first thought when the explosion hit his vehicle in Iraq in November 2007 was for the others with him, he said.
"I heard them screaming and so I asked if they were OK and they said they were," he said when the home was being built. "That's when I started to feel something's not right. It hurts."
Briseno had lost both legs below the knees and had broken his arm. He grew up in Fort Worth and played baseball, basketball and football. He graduated from Castleberry High School. He joined the U.S. Marines when he was 19.
His first thought when he learned that he had been selected to receive a handicapped accessible home through the Helping A Hero Home Program was that someone was putting him on.
"At first, I thought it was a joke," Briseno said. But it wasn't a joke, thanks to Hillwood Residential, Standard Pacific Homes, Southwest Airlines and the Semper Fi Fund. It was the 23rd home for HelpingaHero.org and the first in North Texas. "A lot of prayers have been answered," Briseno said.
Briseno started a job in October with Bank of America in mortgage services.
"The neighbors and the whole community are wonderful," Briseno said. "My son's school is right around the corner. He's playing baseball now, so I'm coaching his team. " Briseno is 27; his son just turned 7.
Briseno says he has not struggled with PTSD as some vets have. "I have maybe a dream or two here or there but it it's nothing real severe. I still get startled a little bit by the occasional boom, but not to the point where someone would go crazy," he said.
Help is available for those who need it - if they know about it. "There are a lot of people out there willing to help but some people just don't know about them," Briseno said.
Also in the business of suppling homes for veterans is the Military Warriors Support Foundation, a San Antonio-based 501(c)3 whose impact is felt here locally. Fifteen DFW families have benefited from its Homes 4 Wounded Heroes program, which provides 100 percent mortgage-free homes to combat-wounded veterans, said programs director Casey Kinser.
"In addition to receiving the home, the family is provided a mentor who they meet with on a monthly basis to teach them the financial skills to be healthy, happy homeowners and create goals to keep them on track," she said. "At the end of three years, upon successful completion of the mentoring, the family gets the deed to the house, [which is] still 100 percent mortgage free."
Currently in 23 states, the program rolled out in March 2010 and recently celebrated the donation of its 200th house.
"This takes a major stressor off their plate," Kinser said. "They've got so much to worry about with their physical injuries, going back and forth to appointments. … So not to have to worry about a mortgage and focus on themselves and learn financial skills is very healing. We've seen families grow and blossom so much."
Vets on the Street Having no place to call home is a very real possibility for many veterans, and there are programs to deal with that locally.
Opened in 2008, Patriot House is a 5,200-square-foot shelter for homeless vets. "We have the capacity to have 60 males and four females in a two-year transitional housing program in conjunction with the Veterans Administration," said Toby Owen, executive director of the Presbyterian Night Shelter, which runs Patriot House. "Our focus in that two-year program is to provide the housing, food and other supportive services around their daily living. The VA provides the counseling, the job placement, drug and alcohol treatment and long-term housing as needed."
Last year, 167 vets went through the program. "We were able to help 54 of those people move into their own housing, which is a very high number," Owen said.
The Veterans Services arm of Catholic Charities also offers help for homeless vets. "The Supportive Services for Veteran Families program offers housing assistance to all honorable discharged veterans who are eligible for programs in Tarrant, Denton, Colin and Dallas counties," said program manager Denise Brimmer-Collins. "Assistance includes paying a client's rent up to five months, utilities for two months, $500 in emergency assistance (i.e., food, important documents), and up to $1,000 in car repairs and childcare." There is no charge to participants, and one does not need to be Catholic to receive services, Brimmer-Collins notes.
Fishing for Healing Gregorio Ramirez was honorably discharged from the Army after being deployed to Afghanistan in 2005 and 2006. But the 38-year-old Fort Worthian battles PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder) and depression. Most days, he keeps to himself, spending time with his wife and kids. But a weekend retreat he participated in this past August is helping turn his life around.
"I was seeing a doctor at the VA, and he suggested I go on the fishing trip to Galveston," Ramirez recalled. "I didn't want to go. Honestly, I was thinking I didn't deserve it because I was one of the guys who came back; I was still here. Some of the guys passed away overseas. I felt guilty. It was a lot of mixed emotions. But most of it was guilt." Feeling guilty about surviving when friends died is not uncommon among combat veterans.
Ramirez" wife insisted he go, and he complied - albeit grudgingly. That decision, he says, was one of the best he's ever made.
"Being able to drop a line off the pier and catch something was so exciting," said Ramirez, a first-time fisherman who reeled in a 41-inch blacktip shark. "It was an adrenaline rush. But someone told us: It's not about what you catch. It's about getting out there and dropping the line and getting your mind off what's going on."
The twice-yearly excursion is sponsored by Wounded Heroes of Texas, a nonprofit launched by Grandview resident Chuck Perry and his wife, Sandy, in 2006. Its mission: to honor, empower and express gratitude to wounded soldiers and their families via fundraisers and other events, including the yearly fishing getaway.
"I'm a Vietnam vet and after Desert Storm, I saw a lot of the same [re-entry] problems that we had on our return starting to occur with some of the younger vets. And something inside of me said I needed to help," Perry said. A group of 16 volunteers assists the Perrys in their efforts. "There's an aspect of combat that changes not just your psychological attitude but your physical being. It's very difficult to re-acclimate to American life, especially if you have mental injuries as well as physical ones. What we're trying to do is help speed up that transition, where they can live as normal a life as possible as quickly as possible."
The organization works in conjunction with the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs, which handpicks participants for the no-cost trip. "They send the ones who are in the most need," Perry said. "The retreat gives them a renewed vigor to help them tackle their [VA] treatment programs and want to complete them."
The VA is only treating Ramirez for PTSD. He was not seriously wounded physically. Still, he takes daily medication, which leaves him tired and robs him of his joie de vivre.
Ironically, for many veterans, being a survivor can be deathly difficult. Why, they wonder, was their life spared when so many others had theirs ripped away? This crushing guilt, according to Ramirez, is something he grapples with every day of his life.
While he was in Afghanistan, Ramirez witnessed the death of a good friend. Mike was 26 years old and from Massachusetts; it was his first deployment. "I volunteered to be a pallbearer for him. I had been a pallbearer for other fallen brothers [but] this time was different. Since the Iraq and the Afghanistan war started, I have known of a lot of brothers that I had the honor to serve who have lost their life in combat," Ramirez said.
Aside from his guilt, Ramirez worries about his fellow comrades who are still on the battlefield, his heart heavy with pain for them and their families. "I pray every day," he said, "for those brothers and sisters who are still in harm's way."
Women Suffer, Too Another initiative making waves on the veteran front is Grace After Fire, a Fort Worth-based group that provides support for and helps women veterans who are returning from active duty re-engage in civilian life.
"Women are fighting alongside the men, which they've been doing a long, long time," said Kim Olson, CEO/president of Grace and a retired Air Force colonel. "But now we're trying to demand that a system designed around a male soldier change and adapt to a female soldier. The VA does a good job for men, but it wasn't built around women."
Founded in 2008, Grace uses peer-to-peer counseling among its other female-focused initiatives to give women an outlet to express their emotions and encourage self-renewal. The organization also acts as an advocate to influence policy on behalf of some 1.8 million women veterans and helps its clients gain access to programs outside its own service sphere.
Female veterans serve as counselors. "It's important to have women vets talking to other women vets," Olson said. "They can reach out to their battle buddies - their sisters."
Grace client Mellanie "MJ" Sumrall agrees that peer-to-peer counseling is critical. "Counselors are great," said Sumrall, a Crowley resident who was in the Army from 1996–2002. "But if it's someone who hasn't been in [the military], they don't get it. There are things that happen that you're not comfortable talking about with a civilian. They just don't understand."
Sumrall was never exposed to combat. She was almost deployed to Korea, but the fact that she had medical issues - she was on crutches because of being on her feet all day - sent her instead into an administration job. She was told if she stayed in military, she'd end up in a wheelchair. And her "babies needed a mama" who could take care of them, she said.
Her "wounds" stem from her re-entry into society - and the ensuing emotions that occur - as civilian life runs counter to military life. She wrestled with transitioning from the severely regimented life of a soldier - where life is mapped out turn-by-turn - to the more chaotic, freewheeling civilian existence. She sought the esprit de corps of fellow vets, who could empathize with those needs and the emptiness that stems from losing a built-in, always-on support system.
That men and women generally experience and process trauma differently is why Grace crafted a gender-specific model built around the female vet. "It talks about emotional intelligence and healthy relationships, grieving, the natural nurturing and the things we go through that are natural to our gender," Olson said. "When women deploy, we shut off our emotional dial. Then when you come back after a year deployment, that emotional dial is supposed to kick back on right after you step off the plane? That doesn't happen. You have to dial it back up."
In terms of reintegration, Grace has done wonders for Sumrall, she says. "There are so few women compared to men in the military," said Sumrall, a married mom of four who attends social events Grace sponsors to meet other women vets. "We're a smaller group within an already small group. So having that connection to female soldiers who understand things that others won't - it's a piece of home."
The military itself is home for Sumrall, she says, and losing that sense of companionship is another tough issue with which veterans have to contend. "People don't get why you miss it. They baffle at why my husband re-enlists," said Sumrall. Her husband, Dick, is in the National Guard. "Once you're in the military, those are your brothers and sisters for life. And getting to meet [fellow vets] is like meeting members of your family. The military is a little piece of home that you feel like you're always missing when you're out."
Sumrall described a recent visit to San Antonio, during which she felt the gravity of her emotions. "I went to Fort Sam Houston and started to cry," she said. "I didn't realize how much of the military was in my heart."
Her heart may have been heavy, but Sumrall and her soldier sisters are every bit as tough as their male counterparts, Olson says. "Women vets are just as resilient, just as brave, just as strong [as men]," Olson said. "They carry the weight of a lot more people than just themselves when they come back and assimilate into life."
Kelly Kelly, another local vet who participates in Grace After Fire, concurs. She nods to the innate power of women to rally around and inspire each other. "It's amazing because women are so strong," she says. Just to be around Col. Olson and hear her speak and [see] the poise these women have - it's awesome."
Kelly, who served in the Army from 2001–2006 and then in the Air Force Reserve from 2006–2011, spotted a flyer for Grace at Texas Woman's University in 2011 and attended a get-together soon after to convene with fellow comrades. "It's always nice to compare stories and meet local area women who are so strong and [where] everybody helps everybody," said Kelly, who is studying nutrition at TWU. "And when you get friendship and love and kindness like that - it's a human emotion everyone needs."
Besides providing an outpouring of support, Grace has aided Kelly in other ways, as well. "I was about to have a baby, and they helped me with a ton of stuff," she said. "They gave us Christmas gifts, too." Grace even helped Kelly obtain a college scholarship.
Kelly deeply craved the camaraderie of military peers, who have unique insight into what it feels like to be an outsider in a non-military environment. She's way more at ease amongst her "brothers and sisters," she says, and feels a genuine connection to all of them, whether they served together or are even in the same branch or not. Those "differences" are blurred when they're out of uniform and back at home.
Support is critical, Olson says, because women are a familial linchpin. "We believe the woman is the nucleus of the family. If we get her well, she will go to great lengths to get her family well," Olson said. "Women are a huge force multiplier as far as making families whole. On the converse, if you lose the woman, you're probably going to lose the family."
Back in the Saddle There's a lot of blossoming going on, as well, at Rocky Top Therapy Center in Keller. The nonprofit offers Equine Assisted Psychotherapy (EAP) and therapeutic riding through its Horses for Heroes program, which pairs mental health professionals with Professional Association of Therapeutic Horsemanship (PATH) International certified riding instructors. The cost-free therapy lasts for 12 weeks - once a week for an hour - and helps vets who have experienced trauma in the line of duty adapt physically and emotionally to their after-war lives.
"We see amazing results; they really thrive," said program director Brooke Knox. "They have a huge reduction in symptoms and a huge increase in quality of life." Funded by a grant from the Texas Veterans Commission and launched in 2009, the program gets a large majority of its referrals from the VA, she says. Right now, it serves 30 clients a week, with room for more.
Michael Hogg, executive director of Rocky Top and a recently retired Navy vet, says the program's discretion is a major boon. "There is still some stigma related to saying you're having difficulty. That's not something most combatants are quick to acknowledge," he said. "With this program being out here on a ranch away from the eyes of their peers, they can come out with complete confidentiality and have their problems addressed."
Why horses? "On the physical side, a horse's gait is the same as a healthy human body," Knox said. Riding also stimulates the spine and muscles in a very natural way. "And there's a level of engagement - it's more fun than working on machines or throwing a ball. But one of the most valuable things is that riding provides an opportunity to have a safe relationship and make mistakes. … For many, this is the first time since combat they feel they can fully relax."
Let's Talk About It Venting their feelings can also serve a therapeutic role. The Fort Worth Veterans Center, which started serving vets in a nine-county area in 1986, uses onsite individual and group therapy as a means of healing. And because many injured vets are loath to drive, Vet Center counselors travel to locations as well.
"We have support groups for vets to express concerns, maybe cry together, maybe laugh together and then go back to their lives and do what they need to do, coming back as needed," said team leader Dr. Dan Vandergriff, an Air Force vet. "The veterans are really hesitant to talk to people about what they're going through because they don't think they'll understand. And they don't want to face the rejection. … But it's not likely they're going to surprise us with something, so that makes them feel comfortable."
Emotionally wounded warriors, Vandergriff says, are also well aware that others can't see their injuries and, thus, might not understand their pain. "That's a concern of theirs. When veterans come back from combat zones, most are young, and no one wants to have a problem. They want to come back to their life the way it was when they left," he said. "So they have a lot of issues that prevent them from getting early help and they ignore their symptoms. … Because of that, outreach is important for us. We go to various events to be there for vets to help them identify something they might not be aware of."
Moral Wounds Beyond aiding the wounded body and spirit, a new program at TCU's Brite Divinity School addresses a more ambiguous type of war-related woe: moral injury. VA clinicians defined moral injury in 2009 as the consequence of "perpetrating, failing to prevent, bearing witness to or learning about acts that transgress deeply held moral beliefs and expectations." Called the Soul Repair Center, the Brite program officially launched Nov. 12 with a formal panel discussion led by a spate of experts and others.
"What we're trying to do is acquaint people with moral injury and show the difference between that and PTSD," said co-director Herm Keizer, who was drafted while doing undergrad work and served 40 years in the military. "PTSD hits one part of the brain, so it's a very neurological kind of problem that requires counseling and brain retraining. The front part of your brain is where your moral sensitivity is."
Among its plans, the center will establish a think tank to advance the study of moral injury, pinpoint paths to recovery and develop resources for public education, as well as create training programs and curricula for local communities, religious congregations, clergy, seminarians, chaplains, faculty and nonprofit leaders dedicated to reinforcing recovery.
"We're humbled by the importance of the task we're seeking to take on with the Soul Repair Center," said D. Newell Williams, president of Brite Divinity School. "We're glad to be in Fort Worth and think there are many here who will share our concern for returning soldiers and helping people understand this is a real condition - not for people who are psychologically ill, but good, normal people responding to one of the great dangers of war. We hope that we can make a difference and are confident that Fort Worth is the best place for us to start … to raise consciousness about the reality of moral injury and how it is different from other war wounds."
Keizer himself knows what it's like have a hole in your soul. During one of his tours, he survived a 150-foot fall from a helicopter. The gash to his conscience - to his moral compass - is just as fresh today as it was all those years ago.
"I had PTSD so I found myself depressed at times and angry and had dreams. I went out of that helicopter [in my dreams] more than once. But then I had survivor guilt, and that was kind of a moral thing between God and me. Why did I survive a fall of 150 feet while some young soldier forgot his night orders, lit a cigarette and had his brains blown out [by a sniper]? So I had to deal with that," he said. "But if you have a good relationship with God and have some people who are willing to sit down with you and aren't going to say, "Why did you do that, stupid?" and are willing to accept you, that's a good way to be part of a community."
It's that sense of belonging, Keizer contends, that undergirds the Soul Repair Center. "You have a very tight-knit community in the military. And our feeling is that the church really knows about community," said Keizer, who served as a chaplain in Vietnam. "It's a place you can go, warts and all, and find some grace and find the acceptance and help to forgive yourself - and, if you have some things against God, to forgive Him too."
Love for Comrades Remember Gregorio Ramirez, who found his grace on, of all places, a fishing pier on Galveston Island? It's that sense of community - that brotherly love, if you will - that is helping bring his soul back to life.
"There were other vets and some active duty guys, all just dropping their lines and talking - thinking about fishing and not the other stuff," he said. "Just being around other veterans feels like home."
