“People don’t have any idea about it”, says the man with long gray hair and beard, dirty black hands, with a New Orleans Saints Super Bowl commemorative donated shirt, seated in the stands behind the fences of the West Los Angeles Little League field. All his things are packed in a cart covered by a trap. In the top, an American flag shows he still has pride for the country he defended in Vietnam. He goes by the name of Gary, Gary Smith, and never lived close to Louisiana.
Just like another anonymous Smith, he was born in the beginning of the fifties, in Chicago, Illinois. The first son of a couple of immigrants - an Italian from Sicily and a Canadian woman from Quebec. There was nothing fancy about his childhood dream: star in the Major Leagues.
“By the age of eleven, seventh grade, my friend Nick and I had been caught fifteen or sixteen time trying to sneak in The Wrigley Field to watch the Cubs. But that means we watched at least 25 games”, he says.
According to Gary, the situation got so out of hand that their parents were called by the administration of the field to discuss what they should do with those kids. “But we’re straight A’s students”, boasts Gary. The managers came up with an offer of giving tickets for minor games in exchange of them arriving one hour and a half before the match to sell programs and promise to stop skipping classes.
“It was the perfect seats. Front row, just behind the dugout in the third base”. There he watched “Mr. Cub” Ernie Banks and other idols. “But we still kept skipping classes.”
Gary grew up, lost the seats when reached high school and just like another Smith his baseball dreams didn’t work out well. “There was just one big problem: I wasn’t good.”
Just like other young Smith in the late sixties, he joined the Marine Corp at the age of nineteen. It seemed a good path to seek education. “They (military) only teach you one thing: how to kill people”.
It was the beginning of Richard Nixon’s administration and the recrudescence of the Vietnam War, to where he was sent in 1973.
“I know now that war is about politicians, but when they were shooting at me, I didn't care if they were republicans or democrats, southern or northern”
Just like the luckiest of the Smiths, Gary managed to survive. Barely. After eighteen months in the front, he was a disabled veteran. Two shoots in his right leg. It took him two years to recover his physical wounds.
He later started working as a plumber in the State of Washington, but soon got back to Illinois where he got married and had two kids. He doesn’t talk about them. “I paid for their education, but I wasn’t a good father”. As for the rest of his family: “I outlived them all”.
Gary came to Los Angeles in 1995. He worked intermittently until 2002. “I didn’t want to keep working when there are days I just wanted to skip”. Sometimes he had a place to call home. Sometime he hadn’t.
Just like another 107,000 veterans, according to estimates from the US Department of Veteran Affairs (VA), since 1999, Gary slept under the sky on any given night. The number doubles up if considered veterans that experiences homelessness during the course of the year, says the National Coalition for Homeless Veterans (NCHV). In California, there are over 20,000 homeless veterans.
Only eight percent of the American population can claim veteran status, but nearly one-fifth of the homeless population is formed by veterans, says the NCHV.
Just like another homeless veteran, Gary was diagnosed with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) and admitted to have drinking problems – the main causes of veteran homelessness.
The National Vietnam Veterans Readjustment Study (NVVRS), conducted by the U.S. government in 1983, indicates that 30% of the men and 27% of the women who served in Vietnam where diagnosed with PTSD at some part of their lives. Vietnam left 1 million lifetime PSTD cases.
PTSD is an anxiety disorder that can develop after exposure to a terrifying event or the occurrence or threat of grave physical harm. PTSD can be treated with therapy or medication. If don’t, only gets worse. Just like another homeless veteran, Gary didn’t thinks he suffers from PTSD.
Gary used to sleep near the third base of the Little League Field, in the same block of the VA Hospital, where he could find help, if he wanted.
For the last two weeks, he is been living in a friend’s apartment in the area. “It’s better and worst”. But just like he used to do, he still goes back to the field. He loves to watch the kids play. He even helps a friend coach in some batting practices.
Nenhum comentário:
Postar um comentário