What is Faith?

Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see. ~ Hebrews 11:1

Showing posts with label homeless veterans. Show all posts
Showing posts with label homeless veterans. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Fallen Warriors, Rising Eagles

When two eagles mate, they free fall to the ground. With talons locked, they fall towards the earth. They tumble, spiral, out of control. Then, just inches away from hitting the ground, just inches away from death, they let go, spread their wings and rise again.

In the beginning, you have daughters, sons, mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters. Whole families during happier times. They are happy, then for one reason or another, they join the military. They go to war, see horrible, horrifying things.

You come back. Maybe you're okay. But maybe you're not. How do you live with what you saw? What you did? Maybe you're on drugs. Maybe you turn to alcohol. You are separated from society. Society doesn't want you now. Not the way you are. You think maybe you deserve this life. You think maybe there's no going back.

There are 27,000 homeless veterans living in the city of Los Angeles. The largest homeless veteran population in the United States. Many live with substance abuse and mental health disorders.

New Directions is a facility in Los Angeles, that gives back to those homeless veterans that walk the streets of Los Angeles. They give back dignity; they give back pride; they give back self-respect and most of all, they give back the life that was lain on the line for each and every one of us.

"This is a long program," says John Hill director of the detox phase and graduate of New Directions. "1 – 2 years. The average guy that comes in here has been in the streets for a long time or been in their disease for a long time. We address the issue of alcoholism, but we don’t just treat the disease. We treat the person."

"We assess their needs. Sometimes they come in here with nothing. They need it all. Clothing, underwear, toiletries, sheets and towels. We furnish it all. We have a penthouse upstairs. We make sure all they need to do is come in here and detox. If you have a problem even psychological issues. We give them a safe place to relax, to get clean, to get their thinking clear so they can make a decision as to what to do with their future. We empower the veteran so he can return to the community and have a successful life."

"Most of the men and women who come through this program have spent years living in the streets, mostly under bridges, so acquiring this building was a blessing. When we remodeled we wanted to make it home. We wanted to make it familiar, so if you look up, you can see the ceiling is unfinished with exposed beam. The architect designed it to remind them of being homeless under freeway passes. It’s a sense of openness without making them feel closed in. They are used to the freedom of it all. Just to remind them that they are not closed in." says LaShanda Maze, Community Relations/Media Specialist for New Directions Choir.

Maze continues, "Every one who walks through that door gets so much more than recovery. They get a new family. They are surrounded by brothers and sisters who have all walked exactly where they are at now. They are assigned a big brother who stay with them every step of the way through this program. From detox to graduation. Once they have graduated into phase two not only does their big brother stay with them, but now they are a big brother to a new resident. 'They can now say I have been where you are.'

In fact this program is so successful that 40% of our graduates are hired through the program. This way they can share their experience with them. I have been through this. I have been where you are. I have walked through those doors. I have slept here. I have been where you are."

George Hill graduate of New Directions and the New Directions Choir Director talks freely of his homeless past.

"Being homeless was the most miserable thing I ever did in my life. You get comfortable eating out of garbage cans. You get comfortable sleeping on the ground. I was out there for 13 years. And I was like a ghost. What’s really amazing I didn’t think I had a story even though I was homeless for 13 years. I lived in MacArthur Park, the most violent park in the world. But that still wasn’t a story to me. What happened that I finally decided to make a change?


I got out of yet another incarceration. I was already tired of it. I was sitting on the corner of 5th and spring. I was out there in the middle of all these homeless people. I see somebody come along with rags on their feet. Rags tied on their feet! I was like ‘that’s terrible.' You could watch him and see that he was a little mentally challenged. He was so dirty that he was black except where his knuckles bent over his shopping cart. He hair was just matted in two big nasty dreads, and I was just like’ that’s terrible. I sure am glad I’m not that bad.’

Now he’s walkin by all these homeless people. All of them, and there were a lot, and he looked down at me and kind of smiled. He pulled out a dollar bill and dropped it in my lap and said here man I feel sorry for you. I just put on my mental brakes and shook my head and said what? As I watched him shuffle away, I am sittin therewith smoke billowin out of my ears, and I see all these homeless people he passed by, and I’m thinkin ‘you feel sorry for me? Dude I feel sorry for you!'

There was something about that that just said no, no, no. I gotta get some help. From that moment on I didn’t want another drink. I didn’t want any drugs. I didn’t want anything but help. Somehow I thought there had to be somethin out there for me and I decided to come in here and never look back. So now I have been blessed enough to have my life back. And now with my music, I can give back. I can help by showing people that there is help for all of us.

So there was a period of time when you may not have wanted to see us coming. People wouldn’t even look at me. Or if I walked up to them, they’d get to grabbing their purses, lock their doors, turn to the right, turn to the left. They'd think it’s a disease, and it’s a contagious.

One thing people don't realize is how much wreckage is in your past when you're homeless. They don't see the the violence of the streets. But now, I get a chance to tell people what happened. I get to tell them I’d rather be homeless sometimes than in the missions. I like to let people know that if it wasn’t for that hot cup of coffee in the middle of the night when I really didn’t care if I lived or died, that’s what happened to me. That cup of coffee meant the world to me. That day old doughnut saved my life.

I’d like to let them know that they are not just casting their pearls to swine. That people do recover. They get help and come back and become productive. And they help other people get back on their feet. And all those things together you can’t beat it. It works out pretty well. But the fact is this shows what change can do and that people can change.


Carleton Griffin, another graduate of New Directions and the bass singer for the choir, talks about his 25 years living in the streets of Los Angeles and how New Directions gave him the ability to live life again, not just exist in it.

"I am a Vietnam vet. When I came home between the nightmares and all the other stuff, well, when I discharged from the service, I was a heroin addict. I tried to deal with it as best I could. I tried cold turkey. I tried not to do it, but I didn’t have the skills. I didn’t know how to do what I needed to do. So I just went on with it.

Long story short for the next 25 years I was homeless. In and out of jails; penitentiaries. The last time I got out I made myself a promise that if I ever got in trouble again, I’d go to the VA. I would get help. A man gotta get up, try it again and learn from the mistakes that you made. So I found myself going down the path again and I walked here from South Central LA.

In October of 2000 I just took off walking. About 28 miles. I came here, walked in the door and told the guys behind the desk I needed help. I got into the program and spent 28 days in detox going through heroin withdrawal. It took about 17 days before I finally got to sleep. I had done it before but always because I had to. I was locked up. This time I did it for me. So I stayed. I got through the program. Got hired by the program and now. Now I sing. I always sang through my homeless days."

I will never forget meeting and getting to know some of these brave men and women of the New Directions Choir, and I hope with all of my heart that I get to stay in contact with them. They are amazing, and I would be proud to call them friends. In fact, it is my hopes that enough people will want them to come to Portland and share their stories first hand. Of course I hope to be able to sing Amazing Grace with them one day. No truer words were ever written for a more deserving group of men and women.

But the final words of Carleton Griffin are the ending of this story. His words will always echo through my mind and are the epitome of what I am trying to accomplish with this walk.

"Everybody deserves a chance, another chance. Not necessarily a second chance, but another chance."

The men and women you see in the video below were never meant to come back from the streets. They were the statistics that said 'There's no hope for you. You may as well give up,' They had lived through the horror of war, and now having survived years in the rough streets of Los Angeles, they are living proof that they may have at one time been fallen warriors, but today they are the rising eagles. Rising Eagles that do this country proud.

PLEASE. Watch the video. It is a life altering experience.







We Are Made As One from Phil Eastman on Vimeo.

Friday, April 16, 2010

A Story Behind Every Face


KATRINA WAS NO LADY:
We lost everything in hurricane Katrina. Everything that meant anything. I don't care about things. Someday we'll get them back, but now my daughter and I are homeless. My son; my husband. They perished along with everything else. Nothing can give them back to us.

ALONE AND PREGNANT:
I tried to tell my mom what was going on but she wouldn't believe me. Her new boyfriend wouldn't stop hitting on me. Then I got pregnant. She told me it was my fault. She chose him over me, her own daughter. She kicked me out. I'm only 15. I have no place to go. Where do I go. What do I do now? What's going to happen to me and my baby.

RECUPERATING IN THE STREETS:
My wife's been pretty sick. We don't have insurance, so I took a second job just to pay the medical bills. Then I lost the better paying of the two. I found another job but they each just pay minimum wage. It was enough to put food on the table and buy the medicine my wife needed, but it wasn't enough to keep the house from being foreclosed on. Now the four of us sleep in our car. My wife isn't going to get better here. The kids don't get to be kids. I don't get to be hero and save the day.

BUILDING A NEW LIFE:
My story's an easy one. I had my own construction company. It was small but it kept me going. Kept a rood over my head. Had a nice truck. Money in the bank. Then I fell off a ladder and broke my back. The cost of insurance when you are self-employed was through the roof, so I never bought any. When you own the company you don't take out workers comp on yourself either. But without it, I had no income coming in at all. My savings, house, car. They all went to pay the medical bills. I wish I had spent the $400 a month on insurance now.

Now I have nothing and disability doesn't even get me a studio apartment, so I'm out here waiting in line for bed every night.

LOVE ISN'T ALWAYS ENOUGH:
He was kid and loving. A good father. A good provider. Every woman's dream. But when he had a few, he was...well he wasn't so much fun anymore. I got a restraining order, but it's just a piece of paper. So I left. I went to a shelter for a while. hey found me a place to stay. A sort of witness protection program, but he found me anyway.

He promised he'd change. I gave him a second chance. It was pretty good for a little while. Then he started going out with his buddies again. He beat me so bad I couldn't open my right eye for the longest time. Lost some of the vision in it too.

I had no place to go. The shelters were all full. Witness protection had a list. I stayed with a few friends but when he came and beat down the door, they told me I had to leave. I couldn't blame them. That's how I ended up here. I've been here for about 3 years now. It's actually better than living with him. At least here, they kind of take you in and you become one big happy family after a while. We take care of each other.

I'll take frozen toes over broken ribs any day.

WICKED STEP FATHER
My dad left when I was just three. Mom and I went to live with her brother in Phillie. Mom left one day for milk and never came back. Things were okay for a while, but when I was 12, things changed. I had a baby when I was almost 13. I named her Hope. Uncle Doug made me give her away. Said he didn't want a bastard living under his roof. Even without Hope, there was still a bastard living under his roof.

I couldn't stay. I'd rather be out here than to keep being his bitch so I left when I was 14. I've been out here for 5 years now. I steal a lot. Only bread and peanut butter. A girls gotta eat. Sometimes I take Tampax, but that's it. I turn tricks now and then but I hate it so I only do it when I'm really down and out. I found out when I was 16 that you could get paid for blood, but you had to be 18. Got a fake ID.

Never got into the drugs. Sometimes I wish I had, but I never had the nerve. I figure I'm screwed up enough already and drugs would just make it worse.

Someday I'd like a house, but I probably won't ever get it. Who'd want somebody like me anyway?

MY COUNTRY TIS OF THEE AND THEE ALONE:
Know how old I am? 54. I look a lot older don't I? War'll do that to you ya know. Age you before your time. Liquor'll do it too. I didn't start drinkin cuz I like the stuff. I can't stand it, but it helps you forget. At least for a little while.

I was just a kid in Vietnam. Thought it would get me a lot of girls if I wore a uniform. All it got me was pain. I saw more sh** than any kid ever had a right to see. I wasn't the same when I came home. They knew that. Everybody knew, but they sent me out again.

27 years I served in the Marines. Was proud to do it. I ain't the only one who's change though. America's changed. There's a lot more hate than when I was a kid. Lot more stupid people trying to run the country. They make all these grand speeches about how much they care and how much they want to change things for us. For all of us they say, not just the Vets. They's just a bunch of liars. I ain't so proud no more.

truth is, I want to be out here. Nobody bothers me out here. They all think I'm nuts so why not let em keep on thinkin it? I ain't nuts though. Just tired a all the bull sh**. Everybody should be tired a bullsh**, but nobody wants to do nothing about it. So I keep to myself and life is grand. And if you believe that darlin' I got me a rusty colored bridge to sell you out at Tony Bennett's place to sell ya.


Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Humpty Dumpty



My name is Charles Alexander Wentworth.* That's a lot of name for a piece of shit like me. I am 72 years old and been living out here for close to 20 years now. I used to be a doctor if you can believe that. A damned good one at that. At first, being a doctor was kind of glamorous.

I fixed the broken arms of future Joe DiMaggio's. I kissed little girl's scraped knees and made them feel better. I was well respected in the community and had the admiration of just about anyone I met as long as I wore a white coat and stethoscope. Then I went to Nam.

I had seen death before. You can't be a doctor and not see death, but I had never seen death to this magnitude. I had never willingly killed anyone before either. In the role of medic, I unwillingly became God. Making decisions in the blink of an eye that cut me to the quick. The hurt my very being. In battlefield situations, sometimes the wounds are so grave, that to attempt treatment is to deny care to those who might yet live. The man is lost - a casualty before he even stops breathing. Then it becomes an act of mercy.

I knew what everyone was thinking. I was a sonfoabitch. If I masked misery as mercy and ended a life, I was being cruel. If I let them endure pain and terror of seeing their entrails lying on the ground beside them, wasn't I being even more cruel? I couldn't live with the decisions because no matter what I did, I was wrong. No matter what I did, I was being cruel.

I tried being a doctor in the real world again. The world without human carnage, Napalm, and the stench of burning flesh. But I couldn't do it. Each time an ambulance came through those doors, all I saw was the pieces of the men I couldn't put back together again. Physician heal thyself was not a concept I could wrap my head around. How could I kiss anybody else owie and make them better again if I couldn't do it for myself?

So I took the chicken shit way out. At least that's the way my family saw it. I didn't want my wife to have to put up with night terrors for the rest of her life. I didn't want my children to see their father fall apart right before their eyes. I walked away from it all. I walked away from my practice, my friends, my family. I even walked away from God. Oh I still believe he's there. I just think now he's the sonofabitch.

They label it PTSD. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I think it should stand for 'Put This Sonofabitch Down'. You see I'm dying. I began dying on that field in Nam and He cannot be merciful enough to end my life. I don't have the guts to put a gun to my head and pull the trigger, so I am killing myself slowly but surely with booze, drugs, cigarettes. One of them has got to do the trick sooner or later.

"It is now the moment to recall what our country has done for each of us, and to ask ourselves what we can do for our counry in return." ~ Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.


*Out of respect to Mr. Wentowrth we have changed his name for the purpose of this story.