Story

Veteran Homelessness in America: Michael’s Story (Part I)

Brittany Myers 6 min read February 4, 2025
Share:

Homelessness doesn’t always look the way we think it does.

We picture the weathered face of an older veteran, gripping a cardboard sign on a street corner. We think of those suffering from addiction, post-traumatic stress, or chronic unemployment. But veteran homelessness isn’t always so visible. Sometimes, it’s a young man with a neatly folded DD-214, bouncing between hotel rooms and worn-out couches, struggling to regain his footing in a country he once served.

Sometimes, it’s a 29-year-old named Michael.

Michael enlisted in the Army as a horizontal construction engineer, an E-4 stationed in Germany. He built roads, worked long hours, and did what so many young service members do—he built a life overseas. He fell in love, got married, and had a daughter. But military relationships can be hard. His marriage ended in infidelity. Later, he found love again and had two more children, this time with a woman he didn’t marry.

When his contract ended, Michael didn’t re-enlist. Instead, he stayed in Germany with his girlfriend’s family, trying to hold together the life he had built. But when that relationship ended, she left for the United States with another soldier—taking their children with her.

And Michael was stranded.

Coming Home to Nowhere

With nowhere to turn, Michael’s siblings scraped together money to get him on a flight home. But what does “home” really mean when the place you left behind has become unfamiliar?

His mother was a long-time drug addict, in and out of prison for most of Michael’s life. His father, the only parent still in his hometown in Ohio, had been emotionally and verbally abusive to him for years. His grandparents, who once provided the only stability he knew, were gone—one had passed away, and the other was lost in the fog of dementia.

Michael hadn’t lived in the U.S. for years. He had no car, no valid driver’s license, no bank account, and no real support system. The military had given him structure, purpose, and a paycheck. Without it, he was left with nothing but a duffel bag and a few hundred dollars.

For a while, he tried to rebuild a relationship with his father, but toxic cycles don’t break easily. Michael quickly found himself trapped—surrounded by emotional abuse, cut off from his children, and with no means to support himself.

The Isolation of Modern Veteran Homelessness

Michael doesn’t fit the traditional image of a homeless veteran. He doesn’t have an addiction. He’s not suffering from severe mental illness. He’s just a young man stuck in the system’s blind spot.

And his situation is made even worse by where he is.

Michael isn’t living in a big city with access to homeless shelters, veteran resource centers, or public transportation. He’s in rural Ohio—where jobs are scarce, services are limited, and even basic necessities like reliable internet access aren’t a given.

He doesn’t have a smartphone. He doesn’t have Wi-Fi at home. He doesn’t have the ability to go online and search for resources, apply for jobs, or access the many programs designed to help veterans transition. Everything today is digital—job applications, VA benefits, rental listings, even DMV appointments. Without access to the internet, Michael is effectively cut off from the very help he needs.

And with no car, he can’t just “go to the VA” or “visit a workforce center.” He can’t drive to an office, wait in line, and fill out paperwork. He’s stuck in a place where opportunities exist only for those who can physically reach them.

Michael’s situation is made worse by something many veterans understand too well: pride.

He doesn’t want to take resources from others. He assumes there’s someone out there who needs the help more—someone older, someone struggling with addiction. The system has told him that homelessness looks a certain way, and because he doesn’t fit the stereotype, he feels like he doesn’t deserve assistance.

So, he keeps trying to figure it out on his own.

His goal is to rejoin the military, where at least he had structure and purpose. He’s also considered law enforcement, but the first requirement for police academy training is a valid Ohio driver’s license. Without a legal address, a vehicle, or the ability to even get to the DMV, that goal remains out of reach.

Veteran homelessness is not just a housing problem—it’s a logistical nightmare. It’s paperwork, transportation, and bureaucracy standing in the way of real solutions. It’s a young man, who once wore the uniform, struggling to prove he even exists in the system.

The Cost of Neglecting Transition Support

Michael’s story is just one of many.

Junior enlisted service members often don’t leave the military with thousands of dollars in savings. If they don’t have family support, a stable plan, or connections, their transition can be brutal. And yet, too many veterans are left to navigate this process alone.

The military prepares soldiers for war, but it doesn’t always prepare them for what happens after. And when the system fails to catch them, they slip through the cracks—sometimes landing on the streets, sometimes in motel rooms, and sometimes in the kind of limbo where Michael is now.

His situation also raises an important question: how do we help veterans who don’t have access to online resources? So many programs require veterans to take the first step—apply online, send an email, fill out a digital form. But what happens to those who physically can’t do that? What happens to the ones living in rural areas, without a working phone, without a car, without a way to even ask for help?

We need better transition support. We need to expand the definition of what veteran homelessness looks like so that people like Michael don’t have to fight for help they shouldn’t have to beg for.

Michael’s story is still unfolding. He’s still fighting. And like so many veterans, he’s just looking for a way forward.

The question is: how many others are out there, invisible and unheard, waiting for a chance to rebuild their lives?

Mission Roll Call Is Here to Help

At Mission Roll Call, we are committed to supporting veterans and their families on the issues that matter most to them. Time and time again, veterans tell us that homelessness is at the top of their priority list.

Stories like Michael’s are critical in painting the full picture of what transition from service looks like—and how veteran homelessness doesn’t always fit the stereotype. We will continue to advocate for solutions that ensure no veteran falls through the cracks, no matter where they live or what their situation looks like.

If you or someone you know is struggling, you are not alone. Join us and share your voice to ensure that every veteran has the support they need to move forward.

 

Share:
Homelessness

Latest In Stories

Let your voice be heard

Join an independent, unfiltered, unbiased movement for change.

Join Today