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The VA Saved My Life

By Jim Willingham

In 1975, I went to the VA front office in Detroit looking for information about VA educational benefits. A man said, "No wonder we lost the war." I got angry and told them, "Get him out of here!" He went in the back room. I tried to wait, but was so uneasy that I left.

Later, I went through a VA representative at Wayne State University in Detroit and it was okay. In 1980, I went to a Vet Center in Manhattan. A smiling younger man sat down with me. I told him I was having difficulty socializing. He said, "Why don't you just get out and socialize?" I left, unable to say I was a Vietnam Veteran.

In Shreveport, Louisiana in 1981, I finally went to a VA hospital, told them I was a Vietnam Veteran in distress. An older, kind woman talked with me and asked me, "Are you into Zen?" Yes. It was her last day. So I talked with a kind gentleman for awhile, got into a general veterans group. One afternoon, this guy from the group showed up at my place, said he wanted to show me his .38, waving it in my face. Of course, I yelled at him to get out.

Next meeting, this genteel complacent counselor told me I was an elitist, so I told him off. Fortunately, in 1984, a Vet Center opened there and I felt acceptance. However, I didn't discuss openly my prior experience with VVAW.

I found an ad for Gerald Gioglio's "Days of Decision," an oral history of conscientious objectors during the Vietnam War in Mother Jones magazine about 1987 and was given the opportunity to talk with him, for me tearful, intense and real for the first time. But I couldn't talk about the combat, the killing. My Vet Center counselor said, you knew he was going to be anti-war. Why had I done it? I told him that I needed to reconnect with my roots.

In 1988, I moved to Tampa Bay, been here ever since. I walked into the St. Petersburg Vet Center and the team leader told me, "I don't kill people, I kill Communists!" I left. I was working temporary jobs. Later, I went back and talked with a kind younger woman about stress at work. She referred me to a VA psychiatrist who put me on an anti-depressant. I had the experience of sailing through work without getting upset.

I graduated from practical nursing school, stopped going to the VA and well, just coped. I was going to a Quaker meeting in St. Petersburg. Got married at 52, life was good. At age 63, I began having intense visceral flashbacks. My wife left me. I couldn't work so I went to the VA. They were very helpful. I was put on a mood stabilizer and eventually a better anti-depressant. I applied for PTSD disability, initially 30% then 70%. Meanwhile I was diagnosed with prostate cancer and the VA gave me an additional 30% disability for Agent Orange exposure. My medical treatments have been incredible. I have been treated with respect. The best part is that I may stubbornly survive this. I have nothing but praise for the VA in St. Petersburg, Florida, where I am "tethered" getting my healing medical treatments. The VA in St. Petersburg, Florida, saved my life.

Jim Willingham is a VVAW member who lives in Gulfport, Florida.