In so many ways, as the ramifications of this coronavirus shelter-in-place reach further into our lives, it’s bound to get personal in ways we didn’t necessarily see coming.
A family friend, also a veteran who saw lots of ugliness when he was in Vietnam, is falling deeper into depression since being forced into near isolation from the shelter-in-place mandate that started more than a month ago.
Because he’s in a business that draws large numbers of people together, this otherwise active 70-year-old man with a few underlying health conditions is now isolated except for infrequent trips to the grocery store. He’s also out of a job for who-knows-when, growing more worried about his out-of-state children – one who had been hospitalized with the coronavirus – as he sits at home watching dire headlines on TV.
Veterans like him, as it turns out, are the reason that, every day at 9 a.m., come rain or shine, Rob Bailey unlocks the doors of the Montgomery VFW and enters the empty building, where he sets up camp close to the phone he views as a lifeline for members who might be struggling during these exceptionally challenging times.
There’s no grill churning out pork chops in the back. Nobody serving a cold beer these days. Still, the 45-year-old Navy veteran and VFW commander will hunker down in this now quiet building until 9 or 10 o’clock each night.
If someone calls and needs to talk, Bailey wants to make sure there’s a friendly voice on the other end of the phone. So sometimes he keeps busy by doing a little cleaning. Or he rearranges furniture. He might even put on a Netflix show to help pass the time.
But his focus is the phone. And if it’s not ringing, he’ll start making calls himself, reaching out to members who live alone or don’t have family around to help them stay connected.
“A vet’s worst enemy,” he tells me, “is their own thoughts,” especially for those who are struggling with PTSD.
Veterans across our communities view VFWs, American Legions and AMVETs as emotional havens, where they can be around others who understand their thoughts, even if they never express them.
Few share war stories, Bailey said. Rather, they will talk politics or local news or even share family stuff.
So far, he’s “seen a mix.” Some vets are doing OK, still working and have a support system in place. But the members “struggling the most are the retired guys,” the ones who often depend on the VFW or the Legion or AMVETs as their “safe place.”
“We taught them not to isolate, to get out and talk to people,” Bailey says. “But now there is no place to go to. And I’m afraid they will fall into a dark place.”
Stephanie Kifowit is probably as tuned-in to this issue as anyone in the state. A former Marine herself, the state representative from Oswego is chairwoman of the Illinois House Veterans Affairs Committee, heads the state’s Veterans Suicide Prevention Task Force and sits on the committee of a “Governor’s Challenge” from the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs that wants to bring the number of national veteran suicides – which now stands at about 20 per day – down to zero.
As it turns out, at its next meeting, this committee will begin looking at the data now available on suicides of veterans since a 2018 law mandated it must be reported by coroners’ offices. A couple years ago, Kifowit said, it became apparent those at highest risk were Vietnam veterans now retired and with too much idle time on their hands.
It used to be that veterans always knew they could go to the local VFW or American Legion down the street to connect with fellow vets, notes Kifowit. Now, however, these “older models” are struggling to attract younger members and with so many newer veterans support groups saturating the market, “veterans don’t know where to go.”
Most traditional veterans organizations were already struggling to pay bills. The Montgomery VFW is a large group, more than 500 members strong, says Bailey, who has been commander there for the past four years. Yet even he sometimes lies awake at night worrying about the group’s viability.
And this pandemic is only exacerbating serious issues for veterans. As treasurer of the area’s chapter of Combat Veterans Motorcycle Association, Bailey knows there’s a good chance its major Memorial Day fundraiser will have to be canceled, which provides a good chunk of change to help veterans.
The Montgomery commander himself has already had to cancel a couple of surgeries at the VA Hospital, he said. And he knows of others blowing off medical and counseling appointments at the VA for fear of exposure to the virus.
That’s why officials are working to find ways to meet these new challenges, including more peer-to-peer training and putting tablets in the hands of veterans to use for telehealth appointments. And some, like the Roosevelt American Legion of Aurora and the Veterans Support Group of St. Charles, a combined VFW/AMVET/American Legion, are holding virtual “buddy check” meetings to stay in touch with members.
But while telemedicine and Zoom may be stop-gaps for those who are struggling, notes Bailey, it’s that face-to-face counseling that’s “helped a lot of vets climb out of that black hole.” And if this isolation continues, noted Aurora Veterans Advisory Council member Josh Pfeuffer, “we are going to see a lot of vets back at ground zero.”
The good news is that they “really are trying to police our own,” he adds, with social media platforms like Facebook making it easier for veterans across the country to connect.
Locally, Kifowit is hosting an online town hall meeting from 4 to 5 p.m. Thursday through her Facebook page at ILDistrict84 with U.S. Rep. Lauren Underwood, D-Naperville, and Kane County Veterans Assistance Supervisor Jake Zimmerman to answer questions and provide updates on available services and programs.
Some of the issues Zimmerman says he’s seen so far involve concerns about unemployment benefits and stimulus checks. And of course, with 51% of Kane County vets over the age of 65, a top priority is “keeping them safe.”
One way to do that is make sure veterans and their families know about the 24/7 veterans suicide hotline at 800-273-8255. The Veterans Center in Aurora, a non-VA “safe haven” for combat veterans and those who suffered military sexual trauma, is also a valuable resource, Zimmerman said, and still open for walk-ins and new clients.
“We are in unchartered water,” said Bailey, who helped organize a VFW drive-thru pork chop dinner fundraiser over the weekend.
“Vets may be introverted, but they rely on other people,” he added. “We are most comfortable being around our own …. and now we can’t be.”
dcrosby@tribpub.com
