VietNow National Magazine

The VietNow Volunteer Spirit:
What Makes Us Do It?
Why do VietNow members stay up all night with a veteran who needs help? Why do they stand outside in bad weather to keep a vigil for a cause? Why do they work so hard to remember what other people want to forget? Why are VietNow members always there to help when a veteran needs a hand? A long-time member tells why he does it.

By Joe Lewis, Past National Vice-President

Joe Lewis

Have you ever wondered what drives people to do the kind of volunteer work they do? What was it that brought you to be a part of VietNow? What is it that brought you to join any other volunteer organization you belong to?

Is it the feeling of being a part of something that means a lot to you? Is it a feeling of fulfillment or accomplishment when you are working on a community project or program? Or is it the reward you receive when doing these things?

The reward we’re looking for is different for each of us. The individual purpose behind the award doesn’t matter. The purpose for each of us has varying roots as to why we do the volunteer work we do.

Rewards can come in as many colors as there are people in the world. A reward may be seeing a happy face, or those big glowing eyes when someone less fortunate receives your helping hand. There can be some instances where the reward you receive may have a monetary value attached.

Those of you who have known me for so many years know that there are issues that mean a lot to me. Now that I’ve said this, I’ll begin to explain what the driving force is for me, and why my involvement in veterans’ issues is so deep.
While my wife, Rose, and I are very active with the issues of veterans, the reward I get by doing what I do is simply to help veterans and their families to have a better life.

PTSD and “Rap” Group

When I first returned home from Vietnam in 1971, there was a group of 14 veterans who all hung around the same watering hole in Marengo, Illinois. Of our little group, there were only three who had not served in Vietnam. Two of the group were Marines, and the rest of us had served in the Army. But there was one thing that was understood among all of us: No matter where we had served or what unit we had served with, we were all veterans of that damn Vietnam War in one way or the other.

There were times we got together and talked about our tours in Vietnam. There were other times when we talked about some of the things we had seen or done. We talked about the good and the not-so-good events of our tours.

If any of us were having a difficult time dealing with the effects of our experiences in Vietnam, we would take over the place. We would talk among ourselves about what was going on with one of our brothers. There were times when we would talk into the early hours of the new day, and not leave until we knew that our brother was doing better.

As time went on, we slowly drifted away from each other. We lost that avenue of pressure-release that we had all come to accept as true brotherhood and friendship. When we lost this bond, we all experienced a degree of PTSD. Now, when I see a brother or sister who is experiencing PTSD, I reach out and let them know they are not alone. We all need this feeling of comfort. This feeling of knowing that we are not alone and that there are others out there we can talk to.

One night in 1973, one of the guys from our group freaked out while we were out having a good time. For some reason, he started low-crawling and pulling at me, and yelling for me to get down. He was shouting that the gooks were coming through the wire, and we needed to get to our bunker. He told us to follow him and he would get us safely to the bunker.

After a lot of talking with each other, we decided that what he needed was professional help. We all knew that he was stuck in a flashback. In his mind, he was back in Vietnam, and was reliving the Tet Offensive of 1968 all over again. And it was running as a continuous loop in his mind.

This was the first of many trips to the hospital we made with our friend. He went to the VA, private hospitals, and to a state-run hospital. This friend was the first person I knew who had received a 95% rating for PTSD. The year he finally received that rating was 1978. The rest of us had seen the fullest effects of the silent wounds of the Vietnam War.

Homeless Veterans

At one point, one of the guys from our Nam veteran group in Marengo disappeared. No one knew where he was. Not even his family knew where he was staying. From time to time one of us would come across him in the most peculiar places and times. Usually it was in a tavern in a nearby town where we would see him. When we would see him, we would ask how he was doing, and where he was living. His usual response was that he was living nearby, in Rockford, and was doing well. We never pushed it to find out more about where he was living and was actually doing. We respected his answer, and it was nice to know that he was still with us.

Over time, three of us got involved with VietNow, and I was still wondering how this guy was doing. There were times after I became a member of the VietNow National Board that we made donations to the Rockford Rescue Mission. There was always an open invitation from the Mission for us to visit their facility and to see their operation, but I never took them up on the offer.

One evening, while watching the news, the lead story was about a homeless man who had been beaten to death and left on a loading dock at a local factory. Because a patrol car had driven by about the time of the killing, the police had seen his attacker walking along the street and knew where to find him. The attacker was taken into custody and charged with manslaughter. Then they showed the victim’s picture, and gave his name. The unfortunate person was our old friend from Marengo.

I contacted his family and asked if our McHenry VietNow chapter could serve as an honor guard at the fallen veteran’s funeral. The family knew me as a friend,
and accepted the offer.

Our friend’s brother asked if we knew a minister who would perform the memorial service for our friend. We contacted a minister who was a member of the Rockford VietNow Charter Chapter, and he graciously accepted the request.

We also asked the Rockford chapter if they would like to help with the honor guard for our fallen brother. They accepted the request with open arms, and we provided a detail for the family and presented a folded flag to our friend’s brother.
To this day I have often wondered what might have happened if I had accepted the Rescue Mission’s offer to visit their facility. Is it possible that I might have saved the life of our friend somehow? There is no way of knowing. Only God knows the answer.

But if I can improve the life of just one person by volunteering at a stand-down in the area, or working on some other useful veteran-related project, then I know that I’ve been able to help improve the life of a fellow veteran.

There’s nothing I can do for our old friend now, and I understand this. But there are other veterans who might accept a hand up, and I’m always there for that.

Back to top of page.

VietNow National
1835 Broadway – Rockford, Illinois 61104
800.837.VNOW – 815.227.5100
vnnatl@inwave.com

We can't continue our work without your help.
Please click here to donate now.