BOARD OF EDITORS CHAIR’S COLUMN
Veterans: You’re Not Alone
As he called his docket, Judge Lou Olivera glanced over his
Cumberland County, North Carolina courtroom and saw the man visibly
shaking, his eyes dull and fixed in a steady gaze into oblivion. A
former Green Beret, Olivera had seen that “thousand-yard stare” before,
from men he’d served with to the veterans who appeared in his court.
The disheveled, trembling defendant in his early 40s was there on a
probation violation—a positive drug test—but he was clearly battling
other demons as well. Post-traumatic stress disorder, the judge figured.
Calling Joseph Serna up to the bench, he said, “You tested dirty; you
told this court last time you were going to stay clean.” Then he
softened his tone. “I’m sentencing you to a night in lockup; just the
one. Step back and the sheriff’s office will take care of you.” Head
down, Serna nodded and shuffled off.
But at the jail that evening, the troubled vet was in for a surprise.
There was the judge. “I felt I had to go with him,” Olivera said. “I
thought about a story that I once read about a soldier with PTSD in a
hole. A family member, a therapist, and a friend all throw down a rope
to help the veteran suffering. Finally, a fellow veteran climbs into the
hole with him. The soldier suffering with PTSD asks, ‘Why are you down
here?’ The fellow veteran replied, ‘I’m here to climb out with
you.’”1
From five o’clock that evening until 6:30 the following morning, the two
talked—not as judge and defendant, but as fellow vets. They spoke of
Serna’s three tours in Afghanistan, the alcohol and drug battles he’d
fought since returning stateside, the buddies they’d both lost overseas,
the family members who didn’t understand what it was like over there.
After the dawn broke and the two parted ways, Olivera was asked what had
motivated him to take the unusual step of serving the time with Serna.
The Gulf War vet said, “Many veterans would have done the same. They
would have gotten in the hole to help. And so did I.”2
The compassion displayed by Olivera may have been extraordinary, but the
legal system’s efforts to address the problems many veterans face is
widespread. In Texas, the Legislature authorized the creation of special
veterans courts in 2009 with Senate Bill 1940 (now chapter 617 of the
Texas Health and Safety Code). Using a team-based approach to combat the
risk factors that can lead to criminal behavior, the program connects
troubled vets with alcohol and substance abuse treatment, counseling
services, and resources like job fairs. The treatment is individualized,
but the veterans attend veterans court sessions every two weeks for the
varying length of their programs so that the judge can monitor their
progress.
Today, Texas’ veterans court program is in at least 20 counties,
including Dallas, Bexar, Harris, Travis, and El Paso. In addition,
there’s Texas Lawyers for Texas Veterans, an initiative modeled after a
Houston Bar Association program to provide pro bono civil legal
assistance to veterans and their families. TLTV, which was started in
2010 by the State Bar under then-President Terry Tottenham, is a
collaborative effort with local bar associations, legal aid
organizations, and veterans groups to host legal clinics throughout
Texas.
As we mark yet another Veterans Day while brave U.S. servicemen and
servicewomen are serving overseas, let’s do more as lawyers than just
acknowledge our veterans’ service and sacrifices. For those in need,
especially those caught in the downward spiral of PTSD, let’s help them
climb out of the hole.
For more information on how to help veterans, go to texasbar.com/veterans.
John G. Browning
Chair, Texas Bar Journal Board of Editors
