thedrifter
04-30-06, 09:02 AM
Homeless vets get message of hope
VA worker counsels needy at street level
BY TIM POST
Minnesota Public Radio
Stephen Eisenreich's wire-rimmed glasses, graying hair and mustache give the 58-year-old a professional look from the neck up. But there's something decidedly everyman about the black leather jacket and blue jeans he wears on this chilly morning.
As the sun peeks over the industrial horizon of St. Cloud's east side, Eisenreich, a social worker at the St. Cloud Veterans Administration, is on the lookout for homeless veterans.
Eisenreich catches up with a man in the Salvation Army shelter's parking lot who talks fast and moves fast. His gray shoulder-length hair is frizzy. His eyes have a wild look. He gestures in a grand manner and sounds delusional. The man says he's an Air Force vet and received psychiatric treatment at the VA.
Eisenreich listens closely, performing an on-the-street assessment of the man's physical and mental wellbeing. After about five minutes, the man is off, walking backward down the sidewalk.
Eisenreich heads into the shelter, saying he'll have to investigate the man's history later.
"It's my gut feeling that he's probably schizophrenic. And he is pretty hypo-manic this morning — he's all the way alive. But we'll check on that. I'll see what else I have for veterans here," Eisenreich said.
The shelter is a stuffy space. There are a dozen or so people — men, women and a few children — packing up their belongings. After some breakfast, almost everyone here is required to leave for the day.
Eisenreich's shelter visit is the first stop on what he calls St. Cloud's homeless circuit. He'll spend the next several hours checking other places where people gather: the library, the bus depot, under bridges and in parks. Eisenreich is out here at least three days a week, looking for veterans who need help.
As the St. Cloud VA's homeless services coordinator, Eisenreich has hit the streets in search of homeless vets for the past three years. He feels the VA is obligated to reach out to vets, because quite often they don't seek help on their own.
"They just don't think they deserve anything, so they don't ask," Eisenreich said. "People stop asking after a while, and that's a tragedy. But I understand how that happens."
There's a debate in the mental health community over the problem of homelessness among vets. On one side, there are those who blame post-traumatic stress disorder. They say some vets use drugs and alcohol to cope with their problems, making it hard to hold a job and have healthy relationships.
On the other side is the VA, which draws no connection between homelessness and military service. According to the VA, research shows family background and personal characteristics are better indicators of who becomes homeless.
There are between 200,000 and 400,000 homeless veterans in the U.S., according to the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs.
Eisenreich said he's not sure what to think about the debate. In reality, homeless vets don't have it any harder than nonveterans who are homeless, he said. But as a veteran of the Vietnam War, he knows something pushed these vets to the street.
"Something happened to them and it scared them. They know something is wrong. But they're afraid if they ask for help, it's going to be even worse than it is, because they may lose their freedom," Eisenreich said.
"I was homeless for three years. My life hasn't always been good as it is now, and maybe one of the things that has allowed me to make a connection with veterans on the street is that I'm able to say to them, 'You know, there was a period in my life when I didn't have a place to live.' "
Eisenreich's story is typical among the people he serves. After growing up near Brainerd, he was drafted in 1968 and went to Vietnam. The war changed him, and he didn't know how to deal with it. He came home and got involved in alcohol, drugs and crime, ultimately spending nearly a decade in prison.
In the early '90s, Eisenreich sobered up at the VA, went back to school and got his graduate degree in social work. And now 15 years later, a lifetime to him, he's sharing his story with other homeless vets to encourage them to get help and get off the street.
Another stop on Eisenreich's morning circuit is a day-labor office. Dozens of poor and homeless people come here every day.
Eisenreich runs into a homeless veteran named Tom. Tom served stateside in the Marines in the 1970s. He's been working lately moving furniture at a local hotel, and is hoping to get something similar this morning.
Tom looks tired. He tells Eisenreich he lost his apartment several months ago. He's staying at a shelter now, but doesn't know what he'll do as the weather warms and the shelter kicks him out.
"I don't have any idea. I don't know anybody in this town. I know a few of the street people, people that are living outside since I've known them, but I don't know where you sleep or where you go," Tom said.
Tom said he thinks if he could get some kind of job training, he could get steady job and afford a place to stay. Eisenreich said he'd do what he can to help.
Eisenreich meets many homeless veterans who are close to making better lives for themselves. They're close to getting help, to finding a job and a place to live.
"You want them to be working and productive," he says. "You want them to have self-esteem and pride in what they do. You want more for them."
Ellie
VA worker counsels needy at street level
BY TIM POST
Minnesota Public Radio
Stephen Eisenreich's wire-rimmed glasses, graying hair and mustache give the 58-year-old a professional look from the neck up. But there's something decidedly everyman about the black leather jacket and blue jeans he wears on this chilly morning.
As the sun peeks over the industrial horizon of St. Cloud's east side, Eisenreich, a social worker at the St. Cloud Veterans Administration, is on the lookout for homeless veterans.
Eisenreich catches up with a man in the Salvation Army shelter's parking lot who talks fast and moves fast. His gray shoulder-length hair is frizzy. His eyes have a wild look. He gestures in a grand manner and sounds delusional. The man says he's an Air Force vet and received psychiatric treatment at the VA.
Eisenreich listens closely, performing an on-the-street assessment of the man's physical and mental wellbeing. After about five minutes, the man is off, walking backward down the sidewalk.
Eisenreich heads into the shelter, saying he'll have to investigate the man's history later.
"It's my gut feeling that he's probably schizophrenic. And he is pretty hypo-manic this morning — he's all the way alive. But we'll check on that. I'll see what else I have for veterans here," Eisenreich said.
The shelter is a stuffy space. There are a dozen or so people — men, women and a few children — packing up their belongings. After some breakfast, almost everyone here is required to leave for the day.
Eisenreich's shelter visit is the first stop on what he calls St. Cloud's homeless circuit. He'll spend the next several hours checking other places where people gather: the library, the bus depot, under bridges and in parks. Eisenreich is out here at least three days a week, looking for veterans who need help.
As the St. Cloud VA's homeless services coordinator, Eisenreich has hit the streets in search of homeless vets for the past three years. He feels the VA is obligated to reach out to vets, because quite often they don't seek help on their own.
"They just don't think they deserve anything, so they don't ask," Eisenreich said. "People stop asking after a while, and that's a tragedy. But I understand how that happens."
There's a debate in the mental health community over the problem of homelessness among vets. On one side, there are those who blame post-traumatic stress disorder. They say some vets use drugs and alcohol to cope with their problems, making it hard to hold a job and have healthy relationships.
On the other side is the VA, which draws no connection between homelessness and military service. According to the VA, research shows family background and personal characteristics are better indicators of who becomes homeless.
There are between 200,000 and 400,000 homeless veterans in the U.S., according to the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs.
Eisenreich said he's not sure what to think about the debate. In reality, homeless vets don't have it any harder than nonveterans who are homeless, he said. But as a veteran of the Vietnam War, he knows something pushed these vets to the street.
"Something happened to them and it scared them. They know something is wrong. But they're afraid if they ask for help, it's going to be even worse than it is, because they may lose their freedom," Eisenreich said.
"I was homeless for three years. My life hasn't always been good as it is now, and maybe one of the things that has allowed me to make a connection with veterans on the street is that I'm able to say to them, 'You know, there was a period in my life when I didn't have a place to live.' "
Eisenreich's story is typical among the people he serves. After growing up near Brainerd, he was drafted in 1968 and went to Vietnam. The war changed him, and he didn't know how to deal with it. He came home and got involved in alcohol, drugs and crime, ultimately spending nearly a decade in prison.
In the early '90s, Eisenreich sobered up at the VA, went back to school and got his graduate degree in social work. And now 15 years later, a lifetime to him, he's sharing his story with other homeless vets to encourage them to get help and get off the street.
Another stop on Eisenreich's morning circuit is a day-labor office. Dozens of poor and homeless people come here every day.
Eisenreich runs into a homeless veteran named Tom. Tom served stateside in the Marines in the 1970s. He's been working lately moving furniture at a local hotel, and is hoping to get something similar this morning.
Tom looks tired. He tells Eisenreich he lost his apartment several months ago. He's staying at a shelter now, but doesn't know what he'll do as the weather warms and the shelter kicks him out.
"I don't have any idea. I don't know anybody in this town. I know a few of the street people, people that are living outside since I've known them, but I don't know where you sleep or where you go," Tom said.
Tom said he thinks if he could get some kind of job training, he could get steady job and afford a place to stay. Eisenreich said he'd do what he can to help.
Eisenreich meets many homeless veterans who are close to making better lives for themselves. They're close to getting help, to finding a job and a place to live.
"You want them to be working and productive," he says. "You want them to have self-esteem and pride in what they do. You want more for them."
Ellie