July 17, 2015

davey and cooker 009

So…here is the easy of it! Nothing has changed!!

You all know the story-it is told here in several years of writings; PTSD and the MST that brought it on and has kept it alive…still is.

It is true that my claim against the Veterans Administration came back as 100% fully disabled; here is what that means:

I continue to live alone with three dogs as my companions; my bed sheets continually spread with sand from the two Chihuahuas that persist on being up there in comfort; my other companions are the crevice spiders; I lay down most nights praying “why can’t I be normal” and still wake everyday – meaning…everyday – taking a mental inventory of my surroundings, and my memory of the detention barrack D and the daily assault on my body. I still fear crowds and as always I have good intentions on going to art openings where I know friends will be – but my anxiety of the state of panic prevents me from going; I am so embarrassed by my absences; and – being totally void of any relationship of intimacy since 1998 is taking a toll on my spirits. I am clueless.

Yes, there is the compensation that joins with the VA 100%.

Money does not make happy. Money makes miserable. It does not meet the damage of the PTSD with any comfort. Now a days most of my compensation goes to paying my current hospital bills from a heart attack and subsequent seven hour surgery to open an artery early this year; FREE at the VA hospital….but-I so deeply fear the VA hospital….I requested the ambulance to take me to any place but there! So-I am paying for my medical care out of the compensation I receive. Next time around – I promise – I will not dial 911; I want to just lean up against a tree and watch the birds, and simply pass.

I still cook my meals on the grill-outside…there is an oven in the kitchen, only used one time by my sister in law years ago; I brew my coffee on one burner-once a day, finally – the gas company removed the cylinder due to my long periods between gas purchase since I use so little! My house? It has been tightened up better than the many years it saw too much open air; but – it is the same house since day one from its arrival to me 20 some years ago-after someone else lived in it for 20 years before.

I refuse to change living this way because the facts that led us here in 1975 are the same factors that want me to keep this place the same (the suggestions have been to bulldoze and build-are not for me) because I never want to lose the connection of why and how we came to live here; it was not easy – ever!

It was what God gave me.


Fathers Day 1970

July 2, 2015

b'nai cemetery 022   Forty-five years ago on Fathers Day I found myself homeless and yet beginning a journey; my life journey. I was 18 years old.

Nine years ago another journey began-a journey when I started writing this blog. I had to stop a few years ago; my own inability to handle my own life and fears became overwhelmed trying to load it with the struggles of others; in explanation-there were too much of me in others that I found that I had to let it go-or else!

I am still weak. I still battle the fear, and find myself in company with isolation. The worse of it is-the accurate visions of the pasts that disturb my life in the first place!

Last week on Fathers Day as I have done each year since 1970 (when possible) I return to the B’nai Israel Cemetery that gave me refuge on my first day.  Then I give thanks for the way God worked to lead me then-and guide me now! I confess-it will be a good day on the last day!

What I want to say is not so easy with out covering much of what is already told in the contents of this blog….a journal that began when the Veterans Administration (VA) and my experience with Military Sexual Trauma (MST) became entwined, sort of a circumstance of the VA expressing sympathy and offering hope and beating the shit out of me to be sure neither would be mistaken for true. It is all to deep to explain in just a few moments with a few words….but here is the easiest….1970 is my year of infamy, if only to me in private. I kept so many things quiet and hidden in my soul-then.

It is still the same-just is-the callous has gotten harder! The PTSD has kept right on going as a relentless foe. I celebrate alone four words that s written on my VA disability decision where the judge wrote “exonerated from any wrongdoing”….alone because the person I had most hoped to see them (my father) had died before they came. The liberation from blame belongs only to me-but yet-the guilt and shame still wake with me each morning as since 1970; I am trying to say “it is never over”!

It was a beautiful day walking through the cemetery. The city was just outside the walls but somehow it seemed quiet; the cemetery is slightly larger than it was in 1970 and even though it still has a quaint sense, peaceful and very private.

Birds are like signs to me; my photographs taken from my visit were just random. my eyes can’t focus the camera any more-so my pictures are a thing of chance; I was thrilled to learn a fledgling had left its nest-and landed on this tombstone when it did! Another sign from a bird…this time a baby bird just beginning life free from the nest….soon to mount up with wings to fly it through life; just like the wings God gave me.


….the following from the 2015 VA benefits guide

February 1, 2015


I was given this link this morning and am very excited to share it with every Military Sexual Trauma survivor !!
I am very excited as a MALE that the wording in the item you will read admits males can also be victims.
Any person who freely enlists to serve the United States Armed Forces should read this; any veteran who has suffered sexual trauma-this is a very exciting break through; a mountain climbed….they admit there is sexual trauma and that PTSD is the damage.

April 6, 2014

I believe I began writing this blog and chronicles of a male who endured sexual trauma during military service-I began writing in 2006-and became a result of military sexual trauma in the eve of 1969-70 until I was released two months into 1970…..I know I began writing one day after my niece and I deposited a manuscript that I had written shortly after my military discharge to a VSO officer at our local veterans affairs office.
This manuscript was supposed-and promised to be sealed until my return the following day to witness the copy being made-and to edit portions of written words-black them out-as, they were of no concern of what else was written.
The following morning-none of that happened; instead-I was handed my original, and soon noted each of the three persons in the office prior to my entry-also held copy; jokes began almost right away…definite jokes about homosexuals.

I am a MALE, and-I was repeatedly raped while locked in a military detention barracks.
Rape is not a sexual contact activity; I know-I know-I did not enjoy any moment of being beaten up, and subsequently hurt days and days on after.
Oh yes, it hurts today too! It hurt that morning in the VSO office-being in the presence of people I was instructed to see by my PTSD therapist at the Gainesville FL veterans hospital.
Being in that office that morning and hearing the sneering innuendo these three spilled I began to feel choked and sick and fled. I went to my local library-to use a computer-to locate a computer sales that would sell me a unit on credit.
Thank you DELL.

The words in the manuscript were to be given as evidence-my niece was present to be a lay-witness that she indeed read the words I had written, and had some knowledge of the rapes.

After that encounter (and after DELL issued the credit and sent the unit-and after many years of dial-up internet service later to be enriched by satellite dish and high-speed internet)….I began writing about military sexual trauma; only thing was that as I began writing I quickly learned-I was not the only one who had this happen; and-not the only male!
I was 50 something years old when that news came my way.

I enlisted in the US Navy at age 17 in April 1969; I was not permitted into active duty because of my age, but they accept me pending my reaching age 18 that coming July. In Silver Springs Maryland on Georgia Avenue I did three very important things-I bought a bible-which I still have-and was honorably discharged from the USNR and signed my enlistment papers into the United States Navy-active duty….I had previously tried to enlist in the USMC but was turned away; it was my intent to serve my country and defend our flag and freedom; I had enlisted to go to Viet Nam.

ALL of this is documented on official US Military documents; my attorney and I both have copy.

It is truth-my truth and the truth of it is in fact-in my border city of Washington DC in that era…up until 1967-LSD was legal. I can promise you-I did not go out to find it-but one day in the city, it found me. I ran away from home. One week after I was retrieved-my 5-year-old brother was struck by a Chrysler New Yorker in front of our home-and witnessed by our other brother and myself.
So, things weren’t too good for me there at that time; I was not guilty of seeking drugs as forever accused.


I was a kid! And, this was an era that bordered on a simple fantasy type life and entered a time of more than imagined. Kennedy being shot being played over and over and more than enough for any man to take-not to mention a boy barely twelve years old. And Oswald-his face when Jack Ruby shot him; or – the men and woman and children of Selma and Birmingham (Alabama)- and the scenes from Viet Nam.
Every day our television news showed the photographs of the young men murdered in combat in Viet Nam. Photos from these ‘daily dead’ exactly as they were in these poor lads high school year book. Except they were dead.
It was something about it all that made one want to go fight the enemy and save the flag.
Despite the confusion of seeing the poor people of Selma being beaten by American policeman-and seeing the black and white faces of the same Americans who that day were killed in action in Viet Nam, the urge to serve my country was bigger than life.

I did not do anything wrong.

Every person involved in my legal life as connected to the occurrence in detention barracks D agree that there is absolutely no evidence in proof that I did anything wrong-the Veterans Administration judge signed his written report with the statement “exonerated of any wrongdoing”!!!
I enlisted in a time where others my age ran to Canada to avoid fighting a war.
I did not do anything wrong.

There is nothing more I can say than has already been said in several hundred pages of the things I have written for everyone to see, it is all here. I’ve never lied.

It angered me to learn there are 1000’s of silent wounded veterans who may find the path towards a ‘veterans service officer’ or VSO in the attempt to pursue disability (in a system where there seems no justice) and may encounter the same as I had when the snickers and jokes of sexual nature seemed more important than trying to learn the truth, and felt through internet I could reach someone who could help others avoid this abuse.
Instead of meeting someone who could help…I met another victim, and then more.

It came to a place it was harder to hear the broken than I imagined, and I never imagined the whole of it.

I found help, an attorney from Jacksonville. She attended the VA hearing with the VA judge, and she successfully saw my case agreed on by the judge.
But then, the VA decided that because the attorney of my choice was not approved by the VA it made my case null and void.
We enlist to defend other people’s rights and freedoms…and-I cannot select my own defense?

It was my second attorney….one who had all the correct credentials-and one who carry’s the staff for fighting the system for the rights and support of MST veterans, this man, Matt Hill , believed.
I can’t say the word “won”, but the fact that I’ve been exonerated and-believed is reward where none other was ever offered.

So, I’ve said thank you and good bye before. I have to say that many times I have wept over the course of this blog; the responses.
I confess that time it is for sure.
I think my need for the internet is over as well, as-it was for writing this blog that I first got such….and-having the ‘eye in the sky’ removed from my yard will allow me to really say for sure “this is my story, and thank you for allowing me to share…and thank God my words helped, I am very thankful
Micah 6:8 (a verse out of that bible I bought)

and please:
seek help!
TRUST ME….there is help!!!

a outside view

April 6, 2014

a outside view

I am always uncertain of the computer and its ability to understand me!
I have something to say; it really is-goodbye.

In four days the ‘eye in the sky’ which beams my on-line signal from somewhere up yonder in the distance of outer space will be turned off!

I am relieved-in many ways-but above them all is to open up time.

Time, I think….has come!
So, I earlier-just moments ago-posted a few pictures of recent paintings from my head….recent?? well- as they do not just arise in one night, these posted paintings have been a work of over a long period.

So-enjoy those….or, perhaps….and I will write text to explain – and be gone!

another attempt to be rid of the nightmares

April 6, 2014


a painting of the city

April 6, 2014

a painting of the city

….by jay herron; the things that are still stuck in my head.

March 21, 2014

I wish that I could post a copy of the photograph, and – I am glad that I can not; it is that offensive!

General Jeffry Sinclair shown with his attorney leaving the courthouse having a huge laugh as if it was just another day on the job….”let’s go get a beer, Jeff “!!

” nah….I’d rather go home and hug my wife and kids ” !!

It is almost comical from how sick it is! Everyone should be ashamed as I am sure that across the world many are disgusted!

Word is….the General was in tears during his sentencing.

Too much to try to believe, too much to know that it is true!
He is a rapist!


March 7, 2014

Today-actually-at this very moment while I am writing these words-a veteran aged old enough to be a Viet Nam era veteran…is also a MST veteran, and is being interogated at a Compensation and Pension hearing to defend…again…his truth and matter of fact that he experienced sexual trauma-and suffers post traumatic stress disorder- while on active duty in service to our country!

Today the newspapers reported that Senator Gilllabrand’s Bill did not pass Congress; still-the military is in charge of the injustice of protecting rapists, and shoveling off the victims.  Still a veteran this moment sitting in a chair in a small brightly lit room with a non-believer that the fact MILITARY SEXUAL TRAUMA even exsists.

I have never known any where else where a victim of a crime as violent as rape must prove every other year that indeed they were a victim – and still suffer from the memory with the nightmares and social fears; I have never known any where else where the criminal is protected for the sake of a uniform, and the victim must endure a lifetime of shame and loss, and-if able to claim a disability from the VA must continue to endure more abuse by having to repeatedly defend that claim!


Pray for our brother; pray for all of the Silent Wounded!


44 years ago-and today too

December 31, 2013


I am under clouds of depression awake this morning at 0230 as if some horrid ghost returned to wake me at this hour….close to the very precise time that I found my way into the ‘head’ in detention barracks D and attacked-beaten-and raped; it seems as if it was only a few hours ago.

I am sorry. This is still happening to others-every day.

I know that I keep trying to close the blog; problem is-the problem is. More and more the news is beginning to speak more of MST. To insult it all….still there are so many who make less of the crime “after all-it is just sex” I have heard “so what?” has been said as well.

Jeez….it is a sad state of things when people have become so insensitive about this crime.




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