PTSD, addiction, lack of jobs feed homelessness among Augusta veterans

Ministry provides safe haven

Editor's Note: This article incorrectly reported the estimated number of homeless veterans in Augusta. Various agencies that serve homeless veterans estimate their numbers differently. The federal Department of Housing and Urban Development says there are about 85 homeless veterans, and the Augusta Warrior Project says there are only 16.


Anthony Garrett opened his Bible to the book of Isaiah, and in accordance with the prophet’s words, “raised his voice like a trumpet.”

When a crowd of homeless veterans joined the Mc­Cormick, S.C., native in worship at Augusta’s Under the Bridge ministry beneath Calhoun Expressway, Garrett was set free.

Free of the recurring nightmares where helicopters evacuate the former Army engineer’s friends after they have been fatally wounded while serving beside him in the Persian Gulf War.

Free of the constant reminders that he is broke, unemployed and alone.

Free of the stress of doing regular battle with Augusta’s job market, with no work to show for it at week’s end.

“This is the only peace I have left,” Garrett said.

By the federal government’s standards, the 51-year-old is a homeless veteran, one of a group estimated between 16 and 85 in the Augusta area known to sleep in woods, under bridges and in boarded-up houses.

Some trace their displacement to addiction and mental illness, but for most, it’s the souring economy that has uprooted them from their homes, forced them into emergency shelters or a relative’s spare bedroom.

In 2009, President Obama announced the federal government’s goal to end veteran homelessness by 2015, and in the past two years, the Department of Veterans Affairs has invested more than $1.1 billion to strengthen programs that find veterans jobs and housing.

Still, there are men such as Garrett. To them, homelessness has become a way of life.

“Life on the streets, it’s no fun,” Garrett said. “But I have not given up, nor am I quitting. All I want is a fair opportunity to go back to work and be a part of America like everyone else.”

Garrett was married, living in his own place and working as a forklift operator when he lost his job in a round of layoffs.

Three weeks later he found a second job as a funeral home grave digger, but was only able to do the labor-intensive work for about a year. He has two fused discs in his back, an injury from serving in Operation Desert Storm.

For the past three months, he has done carpentry work at his ex-wife’s uncle’s house in exchange for a place to lay his head.

He walks four miles every day, crossing the John L. Hixon Bridge in North Augusta, while reading the Bible scriptures recommended to him by the Rev. Roger Gard­ner, the leader of the Under the Bridge ministry, to ease his financial woes.

“The Lord has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor,” Garrett said, citing Isaiah 61. “He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives.”

The 13-county area surrounding Augusta and the central Savannah River is home to 66,000 veterans. More than one-third are younger than 45, and fewer than half receive the benefits they have earned through their military service, either because they are unaware they are eligible or do not know how to navigate the federal government’s system, according to a report from the Augusta Warrior Project, a local nonprofit that aims to find veterans jobs, housing and an education.

Veterans who can move in with family are the lucky ones. Garrett’s downfall began when he and his wife divorced.

Without a stable home address and a person to share expenses, he barely made enough money to rent an apartment for $200.

When his landlord more than doubled the rent in April, Garrett became part of an elusive group that mostly couch surfs or sleeps hidden away.

Garrett recently spent two weeks in the Salvation Army’s shelter on Greene Street. The sight of evicted tenants and domestic abuse victims intensified his night terrors and sent him further into depression.

He would often wake up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat. He would look around and begin to have a panic attack, overwhelmed of how far he had fallen.

“At that point, I realized I hit rock bottom,” Garrett said. “I had lost everything.”

The root of the problem was that Garrett’s condition was well-documented.

“Once an employer learns you are a veteran with a certain illness, they will not hire you,” he said. “You are a liability, a drain on their benefits.”

Garrett’s decline has left him frustrated and angry.

“This is not how it should be,” he said. “What’s the purpose of serving your country and putting your life on the line if when you come home your community rejects you? It’s a slap in the face.”

On Aug. 8, Garrett was scheduled to move into a Nor­wood domiciliary as part of a 90-day treatment program for his post-traumatic stress that includes job training.

Garrett said Augusta is not a good environment for recovering veterans.

“The VA is doing their part, but unless the community takes a more aggressive stance in ending veteran homelessness, we will never lead a normal life,” Garrett said.

Vet article needs clarifying
Freedom's Path hopes to get some veterans off the street
Five years in, Augusta Warrior Project shows impressive action
Ex-Marine makes stop in Augusta on walk to bring attention to veterans' issues
National forum addressed challenges faced by our veterans
Stand Down for Homeless offers resources for homeless veterans
Conditions dire for homeless veterans
World War I-era nursing home to house area veterans

Fidel Rolison, 54, has not led a normal life since 1978, when he entered the Army and was stationed at Fort Benning.

Rolison said he became an alcoholic and suffered from sleep apnea and chronic pulmonary obstructive disease by the time he was discharged in 1981.

Today, he cannot handle manual labor because of a weak back, requires two liters of oxygen a day to breathe, an apnea machine to sleep and eight sets of medication to control his cholesterol, high blood pressure, hyperactive nerves, stomach pains, addictions, anxieties, sleep apnea and blindness in his left eye.

“The Army started my addiction – they promoted it,” Rolison said. “And now that it has grown in intensity, they will not help me break it.”

Rolison last held a job nine years ago, as a plumber, and said his existence hangs by the thread of a monthly $840 disability check.

After an unsuccessful stay on the uptown campus of the Charlie Norwood Veterans Affairs Medical Center three months ago, Rolison has reverted to moving between the Salvation Army and Garden City Rescue shelters, paying between $5 and $8 a night.

When the nightmares strike, he reaches for a cigarette or takes a walk to drink a beer, a habit he said cost him his stay at the VA.

Rolison was admitted into a 90-day program at the VA center in the spring. Twenty-eight days into the treatment, he admitted to having a beer and was removed from the program.

He is unable to keep a relationship and is ashamed to visit his six children, two of whom are in Atlanta and four of whom are in Fort Lauderdale, Fla.

“The VA needs to change some of its rules and give patients a second chance,” Rolison said. “The person who wrote the book on addiction recovery did not do it in one try. Even he relapsed.”

– Wesley Brown, staff writer


Bryant Gary set plumbing, hung drywall, installed heating and air systems and wired electrical circuits at Midway Naval Air Station and at the Naval Amphibious Base in Coronado, Calif., from 1975 to 1996.

Despite all his knowledge in utility work, the first job he got when he left the Navy was as a projectionist at Regal Cinemas in Aiken.

The 57-year-old veteran said he had to wait four months before getting to put those skills to work.

In the past 17 years, Gary has installed 11 10-ton heating and air units at area Bank of America branches. He said he fitted the entertainment room at James Brown’s Beech Island mansion for heating and air units and repaired some faulty electrical wiring and metal piping.

But Gary said his work failed to translate into a raise or career advancement opportunities, so he quit to search for a position that would pay $12 an hour.

The gamble never paid off. Despite trying to re-enter the field for 5½ years, he “couldn’t find anything to save his life,” he said.

Around the same time, Gary divorced his wife, lost most of his military benefits to his estranged spouse and was left with only 20 percent disability – $287 a month on which to eat and live.

Having no desire to get a place of his own or live with his daughter in Aiken, Gary went to the Salvation Army’s Greene Street shelter.

He was able to find temporary relief after he landed a six-year job that paid $10.50 at a call center on Augusta’s south side. But the gig fell through in 2009 when the firm merged with another.

Today, Gary makes $8.50 an hour as a security guard. The drop in pay cost him $380 a month, forcing him to sleep on a friend’s sofa as he pursues a position at the Richmond County Marshal’s Office. He hopes to be able soon to afford housing at Peabody Apartments.

In the meantime, Gary serves as a “prayer warrior” at Beulah Grove Baptist Church and said he was recognized by the congregation this past Christmas for drawing so many to the faith.

He also advocates for a post-deployment skill test he says the government should allow veterans to take to show civilian employers what jobs they can do.

“That would solve a whole lot of problems,” Gary said.

– Wesley Brown, staff writer