MAY
2024
THE WAR VETERAN LIVING ON THE STREETS OF KONA
(Names changed for confidentiality.)
The Veteran of the War in Iraq was a referral from a VA social worker. Martin
had been in jail for a few months because of a drug conviction but he was out
on the streets of Kona living the homeless lifestyle for a few months, when he got arrested again. Presently, he was hanging out with his girlfriend who is also unhoused and they were both struggling, so public disturbances ensued. Rachel, his VA worker, advised him to contact our organization. We agreed to meet at Starbucks
inside the Target store. Martin had a youthful personality and was good natured,
and he laughed a lot, most likely from being uncomfortable with the vulnerable conversation. “You definitely still look like a soldier with your haircut style”, I commented. “You know what” he said, “I’m proud to be a soldier, but I have PTSD
from my time in the military - no joke. I’m ready to go home to see my family, it’s been a long time. My sister and I are in touch, and she’s offered to meet me at the
the airport. Can you help me?”
I didn’t give him a form to fill out, I just wrote some notes and let him continue to speak his truth for about an hour. “Are you open to suggestions, Martin?” I asked. We discussed the need for drug and alcohol rehabilitation, but Martin was reluctant because his drug connections were located here, and he was thinking
of returning home to the mainland. “Let’s find a drug and alcohol residential
treatment center close to your sister’s house and I’ll call her. I believe we both know that you’re finally ready to return to your home state in Oregon, but not
to your family’s home just yet. That would not be wise. This is it, it’s time for productive change”, I asserted.
I got in touch with several members of his family, and I could tell they had a
strong love for him, but knew he was a troubled man. I booked the flight, and the day prior to his departure, I met up with him at Ross Store where we provided funds for him to purchase new clothes, a backpack, hygiene stuff, and snacks for
the plane ride. It was a late flight, and I offered to call an early Uber for him for transport to Kona airport. Martin called me from the Uber car, happy and
excited to get to the airport in the early afternoon and wait for his flight. Yet
somehow between the ride over an airport wait, Martin managed to get
inebriated. Very much so. The airline clerk called me regarding the situation,
and we agreed he would be a liability and wouldn’t make it through TSA anyway. I cancelled the flight.
I thought about how disappointed his family would be. Then somehow, between getting my taxi friend to pick up Martin and return him to Kona, the Airport Police called my number and said they were going to arrest him for public drunkenness. He had failed to follow their instructions. In my frustration, I asked the policeman, “How’s that going to help anything? He just got out of jail! He’s a vet and was
all set to see his family again, and they were placing him in a rehab facility in their city. And the taxi driver is about 2 minutes away, set to return himto Kona so
we can figure out a Plan B. Darn!” “Well, hold on, he replied, “I’m a vet too and
I agree it’s best he get to his family, so I’ll stay with him until the taxi arrives and
get him in the car.” My taxi friend who is also homeless, drove Martin back to Kona to the bush he sleeps in. Martin called me the next morning profusely apologizing.
He said his friends had come by to see him off with a goodbye celebration and
they all got drunk. I did scold him a bit, and we started all over again - the taxi driver took him back to the airport and I rescheduled an afternoon flight and called my friend Jeremy at TSA to let him know Martin would be coming through.
So it was: that the VA social worker, myself, the flight clerk, the airport
policeman, the taxi driver, the TSA personnel, and his family escorted this
fragile military man back home. His family later informed me that Martin had
entered rehab. Ironically, this is “Memorial Day” month when we all honor our
troops for their service and sacrifice for this country. And I thought of my
husband, also a Veteran, who had served as a Green Beret, Special Forces,
and who had acquired 30 years of sobriety before his passing, and that he
might’ve smiled at our small relay team giving kind attention and deserved
respect to Martin, each of us waving him off for a hopeful new start.
Regina Weller
Executive Director, 808 Homeless Task Force
Family Reunification Program - May 2024