FREEDOM ISN’T FREE: Veteran Voices

By: Tara Blue
A recent stroll from my grandmother’s house over to the Ashland City Park took me past a yard with thick vegetation on the corner of Richardson Court and Ash Street, where a tribute to Gold Star families caught my eye.

A Gold Star Family is the immediate family of a fallen service member who died while serving in a time of conflict.

As I peered deeper into the yard, little treasures slowly revealed themselves throughout the green canopy.

Every knick-knack seemed intentionally placed and cared for, and all of them were hidden in plain sight and positioned with a sense of belonging. I wondered who lived there.

When I saw Mr. Ed Bobbitt outside tending to his yard a few days later, I asked him for his story. He welcomed me into his “jungle,” happy to oblige my request.

Ed, now 74 years old, grew up on a farm in the flatlands of Illinois with his parents. They often visited his grandfather, who was a minister of the Church of God, in the southern part of Missouri. Ed was driving spikes for the Norfolk Western Railroad when he was drafted for the army in 1970.

“‘You’re in the army now,’” they told him, “and it wasn’t a good deal at that time. But I had no choice.” Public opinion of American soldiers was often unfavorable at the time, as many people were opposed to the war in Vietnam.

He was first sent to Fort Lewis, Washington, then to Fort Ord in California on Monterey Bay. Ed says he was given headphones and a pencil and he was assigned to a unit as a radio operator.

“It’s something you sure don’t want to be. It’s translating dots and dashes into words, and the things I heard put me in the hospital,” he said with a shake of his head.

In addition to physical injuries related to war, the U.S. Department of Veteran Affairs expanded the scope of compensable injuries in the 1980’s to include the myriads of psychological traumas our veterans endure. A “moral injury” occurs in response to acting or witnessing behaviors that go against an individual’s values and moral beliefs (VA.gov).

Ed says he developed stomach ulcers so severe that he was hospitalized for the rest of his service time.

“It didn’t take long to make me nuts,” Ed proclaimed with a sad chuckle. “They came and asked me if I wanted out. I said put me out.”

Ed says many boys he grew up with and kids from his class were sent to Vietnam but never made it home. With a breaking voice, Ed told me “I’ve got too many dead friends. I’m still here and I don’t know why.”

The air grew heavy between us, and we sat quietly for a minute as he wiped tears from his cheeks. Guilt and shame are core features of moral injury and PTSD.

As if on cue, a light rain began to patter on the canopy leaves.

When he was released from the army, Ed says it was difficult to find work because his army occupation hadn’t set him up well for transition to the civilian workforce. He tried to go back to the railroad, but they didn’t want him.

So, he went back to his parents’ home in Illinois and worked on a 760-acre farm, taking care of cows, pig, and sheep. He says being employed on a farm instills a strong work ethic.

“You never get done working. There’s always something to do.”

After his mother and father passed away, Ed moved to Columbia in 1977 where he was hired on as a maintenance man by the hotel he was staying at. It was then that he learned the electrical trade.

“I had no certification at the time, but I gained experience. And I was good at what I did.”

Ed’s career as an electrician took off from there. He worked with Robyn Magner Construction, remodeling numerous hotels and restaurants in Columbia over the years. He was hired at the Truman VA Hospital in Columbia 35 years ago as a federally contracted electrician before retiring in 2011.

“I was a busy man back in those days. It was a lot of damn wire. I think I have copper running through my veins.”

It was at the VA hospital that he met his wife, Carol. She was working for the VA minister at the time, and the minister married them at the hospital chapel. Ed says his wife has been a blessing and has helped him overcome many struggles.

After suffering a stroke last year, he now doesn’t have strong balance and has lost mobility in his right arm and leg. Ed has always found joy in taking care of his yard, and before the stroke, you could find him “outside doing something.” He now utilizes a wheelchair to maneuver, with Carol not far away.

To the untrained eye, Ed’s yard may appear without rhyme or reason. But a person looking deep enough will find patterns of a devoted heart.

In the middle of our conversation, a squirrel who seemed to know and trust Ed came up within a foot of our chairs.

The squirrel kept close to Ed, seemingly familiar with his gentle nature, while keeping a watchful eye on me. It rummaged through the bowls of food and water which he leaves out for the little critters who frequent his yard.

The squirrel picked up a walnut, stood high on a nearby branch, gave us a final glance as if to say thank you, and bounded away.

Ed says the plants in his “jungle” are mostly volunteer, meaning that he didn’t plant them himself. He says that if something pops up, he allows it to express its own will and grow freely as it pleases.

A small act of defiance to an authoritarian system.

Tending to his yard brings Ed peace and is in its own way, therapy.

In contrast to conventional mental health treatment, by which veterans speak to a psychiatrist who then prescribes medicine, a new “eco-therapy” has recently taken root as a treatment within the mental health industry.

Eco-therapy involves nature-based opportunities for veterans to hunt & fish, hike, ride horses, garden, camp, or do almost anything in the “great outdoors”. It has gained enormous traction in recent years.

Evidence from recent studies shows that nature-based and eco-therapy has been highly effective in treating veterans with PTSD (nih.gov).

Ed figured this out before it became popular and like many of our elder veterans, he began his healing journey long ago without much support from the system which broke him.

Freedom isn’t free, and it often comes with too high of a price tag. But many soldiers, like Ed and his friends who never come home, pay it for us.

And for that, we are forever grateful and indebted to their service.

Special thank you to Mr. Bobbitt for sharing your story.

If you are a veteran and are struggling with an emergency mental health crisis:

Call 988 and select 1
Text 838255
Visit: https://www.va.gov/health-care/health-needs-conditions/mental-health/suicide-prevention/

https://theactionalliance.org/veteran-and-military-suicide-prevention-resources

To support Gold Star families, visit:
https://americasgoldstarfamilies.org/donate