Jesse Henderson, an Army veteran, now works as an outreach worker connecting homeless veterans in Los Angeles to housing and support resources through his work with US Vets. While the annual count of homeless veterans in LA had declined 18% in the previous year, Henderson still encounters many veterans in need of assistance, including some who have recently lost housing due to rising rents and property sales. The story profiles Henderson's outreach work, the experiences of homeless veterans he encounters, and new programs aimed at helping veterans get off the streets, though veteran homelessness remains a complex issue with no single solution.
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1. The lack of affordable housing is at the forefront of the homeless crisis in Los
Angeles County. But the city's annual point-in-time homeless count, released
on June 1, showed that the veteran homeless population had declined 18
percent.
On this particular morning, Jesse Henderson is canvassing Hollywood
Boulevard in Los Angeles. He's quick to point out this is not the stretch of the
boulevard popular with tourists. Far from it. There's a certain vigilance and
purpose in his stride. Understandable when you learn that the 39-year-old
Army veteran did two tours in Iraq and one in Afghanistan.
2. "Our basic job was to look for IEDs," he says and, when on patrol they had a
saying, "Sometimes we'll find them, sometimes they'll find us."
Today, Henderson has found a new mission: from searching out improvised
explosive devices to searching for homeless veterans on the streets of Los
Angeles. He looks for clues; a tent that's off by itself, a military blanket from
the VA.
"Veterans usually have their stuff more in order," he says.
As an outreach worker for U.S.Vets, his job is to try and connect homeless
veterans with support resources, including transitional housing, offered by the
nonprofit. He wears a camouflage backpack filled with bottles of water,
hygiene items, gift cards, a pack of cigarettes.
Henderson approaches a row of low-slung tents. A homeless man tells him
there's a veteran living in the brown tent at the end of the street. Henderson
peeks through the mesh screen and introduces himself. The voice inside the
tent is hardly audible, but politely answers, "No, I'm not a veteran."
Henderson smiles and says, "OK, sorry to bother you brother."
It's not an uncommon response, some veterans don't want to be found.
Maybe they've had a bad experience with the military or just a hard re-entry
into civilian life.
It's all about gaining trust Henderson says. And he's been there.
"There was a point where I didn't have anything and someone helped me with
my needs," he says.
Another homeless man leaning up against wall overhears the conversation
and asks Henderson if he's a veteran.
3. "Seven years Army," Henderson replies. The man smiles and nods his head.
Navigating streets, alleys and underpasses three times a week, Henderson
hears a lot of stories. And recently, more veterans speak of losing their
housing.
"They've been living there for four or five years," he says. "They get a new
owner. The new owner comes in, everyone's gone and they turn it into an
Airbnb. I call it the Airbnb effect."
Still, this year's annual count of the homeless showed a significant decline in
the numbers of veterans on the street.
"This year's point in time count and the decrease really spoke to the hard work
that was being done," said Heidi Marston, the director of Community
Engagement and Reintegration at the West Los Angeles VA Medical Center.
Although the previous year's veteran homeless count turned out to be not as
high as initially reported, it did serve as a call to action for the VA.
"To kind of streamline our processes to get folks who are under the bridges
and on the streets into housing," Marston explained.
The VA also increased funding for a program that provides 90-day emergency
housing for veterans like Air Force combat veteran Christopher Underwood.
He suffers from PTSD and was facing imminent homelessness on the street.
Underwood's now staying at a U.S.Vets facility in Inglewood.
"And I'm thankful. Without this I'd probably be in a situation where you know...
a little more desolate," Underwood said.
Steve Peck, president of U.S.Vets says the VA's outreach and services
accomplished a great deal, but he cautions that veteran homelessness is an
ever-changing dynamic.
4. "There were more first-time homeless than ever before," he says, adding that
he's seeing an increasing number of post-Sept 11 veterans seeking help.
"They're hopping from bed to bed, relative to relative, they're living in their
cars," he says. "Some of them don't even consider themselves homeless
because they're not sleeping literally on the sidewalk. But they are ...and
they're suffering."
Across town, on the sprawling campus of the West LA Veterans Affairs, it's
early evening. Under flickering floodlights 63-year-old Marine veteran Robert
Louis and his wife Gail are getting ready to bed down for the night in their car.
"It's really rough as you can see it's not a big car," he said with a laugh.
"There's not a lot of room to sleep in."
The VA recently partnered with the nonprofit Safe Parking L.A. to provide 10
parking spaces for homeless veterans. There's a wash station and a portable
bathroom. They have to leave in the morning. He turns and looks at his wife
sitting next to him.
"But we make the best of it," he said, as if reassuring her.
The story of how they got here can be summed up to a few wrong decisions
and Gail's diagnosis of cancer. Gail is wearing a blue sweatshirt and her hair
in a loose upsweep.
"It's been extremely depressing but I'm alive to experience it so I am forever
grateful," she said.
One of the things they are grateful for is they still have their car. They drive by
the homeless on the streets of L.A. every day. Robert slowly shakes his head.
"They have tents or are just huddled up in doorways,"he said. "We're just
thankful and we say a prayer for them, too."
5. The parking spaces are starting to fill up. There are new faces here every
night. They all look out for each other they say. By 9:30 p.m. the homeless
veterans have retired to their cars for the night, the sounds of the city muffled
in the distance.