Homeless Veterans Get a Hand Up

James Rogers, a college graduate and Navy veteran, fought through Vietnam, serving as an electronics technician.

Today, he is homeless, jobless and a recovering addict.

At the end of the Ventura County Stand Down on Sunday, Rogers cried as he spoke of his pledge to end his battle with cocaine, heroin and alcohol.

“I’ve been given a second chance in life,” said Rogers, 47. “I think of all the people that were left behind when I was fighting. They never got a second chance. And I’m going to use this one to the best of my ability.”

Rogers was among the 150 men and women from all branches of the military who gathered at Ventura College over the weekend for the eighth annual Stand Down, a three-day event created to assist homeless veterans. They were bused onto campus from homeless shelters in Ventura, Los Angeles, San Luis Obispo and Santa Barbara counties, each hoping for a few lessons in combating homelessness and drug addiction.

Around the state each year there are about eight Stand Downs, a term referring to when a soldier moves from the battlefield to a safety zone. Event officials estimate that nationwide there are about 275,000 veterans on the streets.

Throughout the weekend, volunteers helped the homeless veterans fill out tax forms, sign up for food stamps or enroll in drug and alcohol counseling. A doctor was on hand for checkups. And a Superior Court judge held court in an Army tent to give veterans a chance to clear tickets for minor violations through community service assignments.

They were also given new clothes and a bag full of combs, razors, toothbrushes and deodorant--simple necessities, event organizers say, that can mean the difference between getting a job and staying on the street.

Rogers has attended the event every year, but this was the first time he attended sober, he said. He used to come just for the new clothes and hot food--Stand Down participants are served three meals a day. But this time, he said, he was there to take advantage of the assistance and make a change.

“Ten days before this event, I stood with a gun to my head,” Rogers said. “That’s how desperate I was. I didn’t know what else to do. But thank God for this event. It’s given me a new way to look at life. I credit this event for helping me.”

Rogers enrolled in a drug rehabilitation program and hopes to soon get a job that will end his days on the streets.

As Rogers stopped talking, the crowd grew quiet as taps boomed through a loudspeaker. Some of the tattered veterans with grizzled and stubbled faces snapped to attention and saluted as a flag was lowered, signaling the event’s end.

The veterans gathered in a circle, held hands and raised their arms. Volunteers from the Veterans of Foreign Wars played patriotic tunes.

“I just want each and every one of you to know,” said Mike McKelroy, event organizer and homeless advocate for the VFW, “that I’d be proud to serve with each and every one of you. And I mean that from the bottom of my heart.”

The veterans scrambled back to their tents then, packing up bags and preparing to head back to the streets--many with a new determination to find jobs, homes, a new way to live.

But Leon Lewis of Long Beach stood alone in the school’s open field and wept.

“A lot of people just don’t understand,” he said. “They take freedom for granted. People have paid a lot for our freedoms. Life is a struggle, and you can’t just give up. I can’t give up.”

Lewis, an Army veteran who served in Germany from 1977 to 1983, said he plans to start a new job as a security officer for a veterans hospital in Long Beach in a few days. But he first had to clear up some warrants for past-due jaywalking tickets. He did that Saturday.

Lewis pledged to return to Stand Down next year--as a volunteer.

“Next year,” he said, “it will be my turn to give back.”