Stand down holds out a helping hand to veterans down on their luck

I wandered through the fifth annual Veterans Stand Down at the Fraternal Order of Eagles headquarters on Washington Avenue last week and couldn't help feeling I was at a free swap meet for homeless people.

The morning atmosphere was open and caring and almost festive with breakfast available in the Eagles' big backyard and a live musician filling the last of the cool spring air with song.

Sponsored by U.S. Vets and the Veterans Stand Down Committee of Las Vegas, the three-day event was staffed with dozens of volunteers and provided one-stop shopping for veterans down on their luck. Medical, dental, and other social services were available. There was free HIV testing and everything from combat boots to eyeglasses available for the taking. It was truly an impressive display of caring for former members of our military. (Now, if we can only get the government to show as much concern for our current generation of soldiers.)

One U.S. Vets booth offered free reading glasses. It was manned by Robert Bushong, a 53-year-old Air Force veteran with a big white beard. Bushong admitted he could relate to the troubles of his erstwhile brothers in arms. He lost his truck-driving job a few years back, and these days he works with U.S. Vets while he studies for his commercial driver's license.

"We're trying to do what we can," he said. "This organization helped me out, so I figure I'd return the favor. Hopefully it gets contagious."

While a number of those present looked like alcohol was their greatest enemy, Bushong talked about the devastating depression and delayed stress many veterans have suffered. On this day set aside for understanding, he was empathetic.

"It's vets helping vets is basically what we're doing," Bushong said. "Sometimes all we've got is one another. The average person wouldn't understand that."

As the morning wore on, some of the hundreds of participants collected more gear and goodies than others. A few loaded their free packs so full they looked prepared for deployment.

Navy veteran Jeff Walter was typical of a lot of those who walked down Washington Avenue away from the downtown homeless corridor to pick up supplies. After three years on the street, he talked about the right hand he injured while working as a carpenter a couple of decades ago.

"I can't go on with my chosen profession," the 57-year-old said, adding that he works as a day laborer when he can.

Other than some clothes and necessities, what did he hope to gain from the stand down?

"I'd like to get some employment and peace and quiet and a place to stay," Walter said before starting the trek back up Washington.

While many possessed the tattered look of street survivors, a few cracked the homeless stereotype. I suspect that's because they weren't homeless.

As he stood in line to pick up a free backpack and some handsome military surplus gear, one participant shattered his down-and-out image when his cell phone rang. He received his goodies and kept moving.

Perhaps my favorite veteran was Leo Fee, a 49-year-old holder of a master's degree from UNLV who told me he served in the U.S. Army and saw action in Panama and Desert Storm before he was injured in a helicopter crash. He spoke slowly but clearly, and his candor was refreshing.

"Some of them, they like to use the veterans thing like a crutch sometimes," Fee said, admitting that he wasn't exactly homeless. He had a modest place to stay, worked part-time, and took graduate classes. "They do give out nice clothes."

The veterans' culture, he said, was complex. Those at the bottom end are often caught up in "boozing and drugs. Or they burnt all their bridges."

Beyond a little understanding and some social services, what do down-and-out veterans need?

Fee said, "They need a place to wake up in the morning and clean up, maybe wash their clothes and go out and look for a job. Nobody's going to hire you if you're not clean-shaven and (are) filthy."

The issues are daunting. And with conflict in Iraq and Afghanistan and the threat of engagement elsewhere, one day the Veterans Stand Down will probably need a larger location.

War is hell. From the look of things, peace is no picnic, either.

John L. Smith's column appears Sunday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday. E-mail him at Smith@reviewjournal.com or call (702) 383-0295.