Through his portraits of wounded soldiers, their loved ones and their caretakers, and through his portrayals of the dangerous conditions in which they serve and the trying world to which they return, David Wood has crafted an immensely valuable mosaic of a vital segment of American life.
Starting today, The Huffington Post begins a ten-part series, Beyond the Battlefield -- an exploration of the physical and emotional challenges, victories and setbacks that catastrophically wounded soldiers encounter after returning home.
By providing arts-based avenues and outlets for extreme expression and rejecting the blanket, agenda-driven censorship of demagogues, we will provide alternate means by which to externalize the darkest inner storms of emotion and pain.
I am a veteran with more than 30 years of service both as an enlisted servicemember and as an officer. I served in Vietnam and the Middle East, in ad...
The VA's shortage of therapists and difficulty reaching rural veterans means even those diagnosed may not get all the help they need. But even those who were diagnosed and treated find that at some point, therapy has done all it can do. More sessions won't necessarily help. From that point on, veterans say, their lives become a matter of coping.
America's men and women in uniform bravely defend our nation and our values. Their skill, dedication and valor are the envy of the world. When their time in uniform is over, they are entitled to world-class health care, a benefit they've earned and that their country is grateful to provide for them.
On the morning of Sept. 3, Jon and Elizabeth Alba waited two hours at the VA Medical Clinic in Iron Mountain, Mich., not for medical care but for a few days' supply of groceries.
The number of troops who have come home from Iraq and Afghanistan with damaged bodies and -- in far too many cases damaged minds -- requires such a comprehensive response.
While the economy, war, and immigration are deeply partisan, this is one issue that is not. For once, Congress can do the right thing and unify under the banner of the "atomic veterans." But time is running out.
Many of us who served in Iraq and Afghanistan have survived injuries that would have killed us in previous wars, and while that is of course a cause for celebration, it also demands incredible sacrifices by our caregivers.
This is a story from one of the hardest days of my life. One afternoon I rang the doorbell of a veteran named Ron. No one answered. I proceeded to go back to my car to write him a note. Then something horrific occurred.
These rating schemes tell the public that if you spend more on fundraising, you are bad. They equate fundraising and overhead to fraud and judge the business decisions charities make in order to best fulfill their missions, serve their constituents, and sustain their organizations for the long-term.
Even though I sat at their same table, I just couldn't give up on them. Those kids needed someone, and I refused to allow myself to be discouraged. I refused to allow my advocacy to waiver. I refused to stop and lick my wounds. I tried my damnedest to give a voice to those voiceless children. I kept fighting, kept moving, and was never out of the fight -- just as the Army trained me.
I understand that as we draw down from Iraq and Afghanistan, we are beginning the process of putting those wars behind us. In our closure, however, we cannot close the door on our veterans -- as we have done so many times before.
This picture appeared in the newspaper where I worked on June 5, 1994, a day shy of the 50th anniversary of D-Day. I was stunned. The man on the far right was my father, and I recognized him immediately. I fell into a chair in a heap. He'd died seven years previously, and I missed him. And on that moment, I missed that he'd never told me the story of that day.
There is a deep and urgent need for Americans to understand that the current problems within certain VA facilities are not rampant and system-wide. And I would bet my life that the nurses and staff at the centers being investigated carry out their duties with the same compassion and caring that my father-in-law is receiving at this very moment.