Chapter 29 Chapter 29: Launch Day
Eight weeks had passed since I stood inside a converted community center in Chicago, observing Tommy Chen lead the first formal meeting of the Veteran Community Support Initiative. Twelve veterans were seated in a circle, some of whom I knew from past crisis calls, others who were new to peer support but attracted by word of mouth.
"Before we start," told Tommy, "I want everyone to understand what this is and isn't. This isn't therapy, though we do have certified therapists on staff for referral. This isn't medical care, though we can help you navigate getting through VA healthcare. This is veterans helping veterans sort out how to live with what we've experienced."
The documentary crew was stationed way down in the corner, cameras documenting all with that unobtrusive professionalism that made witnesses forget they were being recorded. Alex sat among them, taking notes and quietly asking the occasional question.
"Tom?" A young woman raised her hand. "I'm Sarah. I was over in Iraq twice, got back six months ago. I'm having a lot of trouble sleeping, a lot of trouble with crowds, a lot of trouble with. basically everything."
"Sarah, I appreciate you sharing that with me. Who else had sleep trouble after leaving here?"
Eight hands went up. I watched as Tommy facilitated a conversation regarding nightmares, being on edge, and the challenge of ever feeling safe within civilian environments. It was raw, honest, and far from the regimented therapy sessions I'd seen at VA facilities.
"The thing about nightmares," said a veteran named Marcus, "is that other people don't get it. They think you should just get over it, move on. But you guys know that it's not that simple."
Nods around the circle. I observed that information was the determinative element that made peer support effective. These soldiers did not need to narrate their experiences or justify their struggles. They were speaking in a shared language built from communal trauma.
My own phone beeped with news from the other four cities. Simultaneous launch meetings were occurring at the same moment in Boston, Los Angeles, Denver, and Atlanta. Every meeting was unique in personality and focus, but they all had the same idea: veterans helping veterans.
The Congressional committee's Dr. Patricia Williams observed the Chicago session, monitoring group dynamics and intervention tactics.
"This is incredible," she whispered in my ear. "The level of energy and trust they've established in one session is something that generally takes months in a traditional therapy modality."
"That's the wonder of shared experience," I explained. "They don't have to convince one another that their problems exist or that they're deserving of treatment."
After the group session, Tommy and I walked to a nearby coffee shop for a debriefing.
"Think it went okay?" I asked.
"Better than I hoped. Good attendance, honest discussion, and already people are talking about bringing friends to next week's meeting." Tommy was exhausted but beaming. "Rachel, I believe we really might be onto something here."
"Any issues?"
"A few. Marcus has some anger problems that might need to see a professional. Sarah discussed some things that could be precursors to self-injury. We are going to have to establish clear criteria for when peer support is not adequate."
"Can we get Dr. Reynolds in to consult?" Dr. Reynolds was the professionally licensed therapist who managed the Chicago program.
"She's on it and she's already flagged Marcus and Sarah for follow-up. The system is working as we hoped."
The phone rang. Gunny Santos calling from Los Angeles.
"How was Chicago? Our session was amazing. Twenty-two veterans came out, and we had to relocate to a larger room."
"Any problems?"
"No issue. One guy started panicking while making introductions, but two other veterans who had experienced the same reassured him. Just the sort of peer support we were looking for."
The same was heard in Boston, Denver, and Atlanta. Enthusiastic turnout, active engagement, and immediate evidence of veterans supporting one another in ways that filled but didn't replace professional services.
Alex met Tommy and me at the coffee shop, laptop on and recording device in place.
"Both of you, what did you find most surprising about today?"
Tommy hesitated. "How quickly they all bonded. I thought it would take a few sessions to establish trust, but these guys were opening up and sharing personal information within the first half hour."
"Rachel, your experience as someone who's observed this transition from individual crisis intervention to group support?"
"What impressed me was how instinctive it all was. These veterans have been looking after each other in an ad-hoc manner for months using on-line forums and social networking websites. Today simply formalized a process for doing something they were already doing."
"And the documentary team? How intrusive were they?"
"Honestly, I didn't even remember they were there after the first fifteen minutes," Tommy said. "They were respectful and professional. I think having the filming really helped some folks feel like what they were saying was important, that they were contributing to something greater than their own healing."
Over two weeks, I traveled to each of the five cities to observe sessions and interview experienced participants. Each program had developed its own style while maintaining the spirit of peer support with professional oversight.
In Boston, Captain Morrison had created a program with a high focus on career transition and employment support. Veterans were helping fellow veterans with resumes, interviewing skills, and acclimation to work.
In Los Angeles, Gunny Santos included family members in some of the sessions, recognizing that veteran trauma affected entire families. Spouses and children were learning to take care of their veteran family members while receiving support for their secondary trauma.
Denver had established a strong outdoor component, with camping and hiking programs that combined peer support with nature therapy. Veterans found it easier to share themselves by a campfire than in a dilapidated meeting room.
Atlanta had partnered with a local university to provide educational support, with veterans helping each other with college admissions, study skills, and academic accommodations for service-related disabilities.
"Each city has done their own thing," Dr. Williams said at our monthly review meeting. "But all are showing measurable improvement in participant mental health, social connectedness, and satisfaction with life."
"What about the VA response?" Congressman Martinez asked.
"Encouragingly positive," I replied. "Instead of seeing the programs as competition, most of the local VA facilities are referring veterans to peer support groups and asking coordination on care plans."
"Any resistance at federal VA administration?"
"Indirectly, some initial skepticism, but the professional oversight model and evaluation data are helping to alleviate most of that. The fact that we're supplementing rather than supplanting VA services has been useful."
Captain Chen pulled out her tablet. "Rachel, the preliminary results are encouraging. In all five cities, we're seeing sixty percent reduction in crisis events among the participants, forty percent improvement in medication compliance, and eighty percent reporting enhanced social relations."
"Those are great numbers for a two-month pilot project."
"They are. And they're getting noticed. I've had inquiries from veterans organizations in twelve other cities interested in implementing the model."
Alex looked up at his papers. "The documentary crew is calling this the most compelling veteran narrative they've ever recorded. They're hoping to be able to shoot the entire six-month pilot."
"What about funding for expansion?"
"That's the interesting part," Alex continued. "The early investors are so excited with early success that they're talking about scaling to twenty cities. And there's interest from the Department of Defense in scaling the model to active-duty troops."
I noticed that we had created something that was growing beyond our original expectations. What started as a step to hasten languid bureaucratic application was becoming an example of peer support that could augment professional services in the whole military and veteran communities.
"Congressman, what has been the political response?"
Martinez smiled. "Positive as can be. Both sides are using our program as the model for innovation in veteran care. The VA is asking to study our model and figure out how it can be applied to their peer support initiatives."
"So we succeeded?"
"You succeeded far beyond expectations. Individual crisis intervention became collective advocacy, which morphed into community entrepreneurship, which is now receiving systematic reform."
That evening, I called Kevin Martinez, who had completed his training as a peer counselor and was starting with the Denver program.
"Kevin, how does it feel to be helping other veterans after yourself having been helped?"
"Like I've found my purpose, Rachel. Do you remember when you asked me what my dead friends would want for me? This is it. They'd want me to take what I've learned about staying alive and apply it to helping people stay alive."
"Any regret that you didn't kill yourself in Queens?"
"Are you serious? That was the crappiest day of my life, but it led to the best work of my life. Rachel, I've saved three veterans from suicide attempts last month. Three lives that might not have been saved if I hadn't learned to see crisis as opportunity."
As I set the phone down, I knew Kevin had spoken something I'd been struggling with regarding my own journey. Each crisis, each barrier, each place where everything seemed to be too much had been building to something greater.
The serial killer case led me to Alex. Alex led me to a place of understanding veteran matters. Veteran matters led me to policy. Policy led me to community solutions.
All was interconnected, and every crisis contained the seeds of its own resolution.