AKING

BY LAURA MICHELS

Special to the Record-Eagle

TRAVERSE CITY — Fifty years ago, Allen Watts served as a sniper for the United States Army during the Vietnam War.

Five decades passed but the impact remains.

Watts goes to Peace Ranch, a horse ranch about 10 miles south of Traverse City.

Here, horses and humans heal each other, according to ranch staff.

“We take horses with trauma and people with trauma and we rehabilitate both of them by having them interact,” said retired United States Army Command Sgt. Maj. Chad Brown, 46.

Brown began as a volunteer and now serves as the military emergency services coordinator and program director at Peace Ranch, he said.

Watts meditatively brushed a horse with one hand, while steadying himself using a walker with the other. The horse, named Mark, had been through his own trauma in the form of neglect, according to Peace Ranch staff.

At the ranch, Mark learned boundaries, and Watts is learning to train his brain to relax.

“Sometimes I come here and I’m shaking like that,” said Watts as he held his hand out a quivering hand. “When I leave here, I’m like that,” he added, as he held his hand steady.

Words can be limiting for bridging understanding between a human and a horse. So, Watts and Mark rely on body language.

Mark pointed one of his back legs and leveled his head forward. This told Watts that Mark enjoyed the grooming. At the same time, Mark read Watts’ nonverbal cues to decipher his emotional state. On either side of the brush, body signals gave the green light. For both species, so far so good.

“Just to be out there with ‘em (horses). Sometimes I just follow behind ‘em. That’s all I need. I just need to know, that they know I’m here,” said Watts who travels from Grayling to the Peace Ranch.

Minutes later, Watts’ wife Deborah drove into the ranch, parking just outside the stall where Watts had been grooming Mark.

“What he has been through and what he

SEE PTSD PAGE 2C

Allen Watts touches Mark the horse at the Peace Ranch.

Allen Watts brushes Mark the horse at the Peace Ranch in Traverse City in September. Watts served as a sniper for the United States Army during the Vietnam War.

Record-Eagle photos/Mike Krebs

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has from Agent Orange, I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy, but this keeps him calm, I don’t care — driving over,” said Deborah as she cried from the driver’s seat of her vehicle.

Equine-assisted therapy like that found at the Peace Ranch, is one form of healing aimed at reducing the staggering number of veteran suicides.

According to the latest numbers released by the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs, 17.2 veterans, ended their own lives each day in 2019, amounting to just under 6,300 veteran suicide deaths for the year. National VA counters that the number of suicides may reduce significantly when military members utilize Veterans Health Administration services. Out of the 17.2 a day suicides, 10.4 were veterans who had no history with the VHA, in 2018 or 2019 while the other 6.8 accounted for veterans who had “encounters” with the VHA, during those same years according to the department.

The statistic of 22 veteran suicides a day is often referenced. That number comes from estimates that predated the VA’s more comprehensive annual reports which showed an average of 22 veterans a day took their own lives in the calendar year 2010. That number was based on a sampling of 21 states, according to the department.

For Lucas Clark, a former cavalry scout in the United States Army, veteran suicides are a far too prevalent and recurring part of his life.

Three men from his Army unit ended their lives. In addition, three local veterans he knew well died by suicide, he said.

“Each one is different; each one is unique. Each is painful in slightly different ways.”

Feelings of self blame and anger at other entities that failed to keep his friend alive follow in tandem with each of Clark’s losses.

“Every time, I’m like ‘alright I’m not going to be able to deal with this anymore.’ And then some time goes by and there ends up being another one, and then the same feelings just kind of rinse and repeat.”

Clark lives with PTSD stemming from his time in combat which included a deployment in Afghanistan from 2010-2011, he said.

“There’s times where it’s just overwhelming and I shut down. There’s times where it’s like I’m doing alright where I have to take a minute and step away and realize what it was that happened,” said Clark.

Clark is employed as a veterans service officer for the Grand Traverse County Veterans Affairs Office. He’s also a board member for the Drew Kostic Memorial 5K Tough Run (DK5K), an obstacle course race which raises money to fund veterans programs, such as transitional housing and other veteran needs, according to the race website.

Clark was in talks with Drew Kostic, the veteran for whom the race is named after, and others, during the event’s initial planning stages.

According to the DK5K race brochure, Kostic followed in his family’s long history of military service and became a Marine, earning many accolades throughout his eight-year service. After he left the military, Kostic returned to Traverse City to attend Northwestern Michigan Community College where he earned a spot on the dean’s list and helped NMC staff understand the unique difficulties of transitioning from military service to college. He was cognizant of the struggles veterans living with PTSD endure.

But in December of 2016, Kostic died by suicide.

“On a scientific level, post traumatic stress disorder is very understandable, but on a personal level it is very difficult to be able to understand and rationalize and explain, you know, to others let alone understand for yourself what’s going on and why it’s going on,” said Clark.

The race went forward poignantly bearing Kostic’s name. The Staff Sergeant Drew Kostic Veterans’ Scholarship was created at Northwestern Michigan College.

Clark recently traveled to Nevada to commemorate the 10-year anniversary of the passing of one his best friends and fellow veterans who died by suicide. Getting on an airplane was challenging because of panic, induced from wearing a mask for an extended period of time.

“Everybody has different triggers. Everybody has different experiences — all that stuff. So in the grand scheme of things, you know, the firefights that I was in are different than the guy that was to the left of me in the same firefights — cause they are seeing it from a different angle,” he said.

Just as everyone’s triggers are unique to each individual, so is the brain trauma that elicits a PTSD diagnosis. What works for one person may do nothing for another. Therefore, the illness needs to be treated like the complex brain disorder it is, said Clark.

“The ones (veterans) that are getting help with PTSD, the cookie-cutter approach to treatment from the different entities that attempt to help, becomes very mundane and frustrating,” said Clark.

It’s frustration that may lead to despair.

‘“I went to get help, they said that this would help me and it’s not helping me so there is no help for me,”’ said Clark referring to what a veteran may be feeling if treatment doesn’t work right away. ‘“...what is wrong with me, what is broken — is broken for good,”’ he said.

Chad Brown, who also wrestles with PTSD related in part to his service, agrees that when it comes to the impact of trauma on the brain, one-size-fits-all treatments aren’t usually effective.

However, an individualcentered treatment philosophy can be a hard sell juxtaposed against the tenants of military training, where the individual learns to blend for the sake of the unit, living by way of a checklist is a life saver, and there often is just one correct path to success.

“This works, this doesn’t, you do the checklist and it works every time,” said Brown. “We train people over and over again to be successful, you have to do it the right way.”

Brown added that military personnel assistance programs can compete with each other and overload an already overwhelmed veteran who desperately needs relief.

“... people are grabbing at so many straws in trying to solve this that it’s almost overload for people,” he said.

Brown didn’t always have the empathy he holds now for veterans who end their own lives.

“Just not being able to understand and comprehend the thought process of someone who is suicidal is a difficult thing to do for people,” he said. He recalled attending an impromptu military ceremony honoring a deceased soldier.

“In the ceremony itself it comes out, that it was a soldier who had committed suicide while deployed. And, I got so angry ... on the inside it just made me angry that someone would take the cowardly way out, you know, why would they do that?”

Later, Brown experienced a glimpse of understanding when he braved his own suicidal thoughts and had to come to terms with the long therapeutic process.

“Not a single person ever told me you’re going to be fighting this for years,” said Brown.

Now Brown wants veterans like him to be leveled with honestly — their experiences have changed them, and they’ll need to learn to adapt to their brain’s earnest attempts at survival accordingly.

For Lucas Clark at least, despite knowledge of the aftermath, he’d serve again.

“Absolutely — no second thoughts,” said Clark. “I wouldn’t be the person I am today if I hadn’t joined the military.

Watts, Clark and Brown — three soldiers, each one representing a different generation, all now burdened with emotional battle scars that do not scab over.

Their fight continues. “The hope is that one less veteran for that day takes their life,” said Clark. “At the end of the day, saving one is worth all of it.”

Chad Brown poses for a portrait at the Peace Ranch.

Record-Eagle/Mike Krebs