Quiet North Texas kayakers help older adults’ mental health

The first thing I noticed after pushing my truck through the tall weeds and onto a trailer full of kayaks in Oct. 19 was silence. The song of the birds. Water flowing on the shore of the lake.

The organization I came to visit held most of its events away from the noise of traffic and the city. Heroes On the Water (HOW) is a non-profit organization that provides community support for the most vulnerable population – veterans and first responders, many of whom may they deal with post-traumatic stress and other issues.

When I arrived at a line of cars and kayaks on the shore of a small private lake near Farmersville, George Chrisman held my hand firmly and immediately supported me as a reporter sold letters. – email last week, to make an announcement for him. organization because it struck me as a good reason, and, if I’m honest, a good reason to go fishing. Before long, he and HOW co-leader Bruce Fry were telling me about a life changed on a kayak.

HOW’s service model is simple: provide equipment and fishing and kayaking facilities to a community of fellow veterans, first responders and their families. The program uses only kayaks – no motors on the water, not even a trolling motor. HOW to choose private lakes to avoid the noisy public campsites, jet-skis and other rackets that are often found on Saturdays at public lakes. Boats, paddles, life vests and fishing tackle are provided. As it is in private waters, no fishing licenses are required. Chrisman’s team of volunteers handles everything, right down to getting to their feet at the starting point so the participants don’t have to. And once they are launched, HOW takes the bold step of leaving doctors alone.

“You get a sunny day, you’re calm – all of a sudden you can see three or four guys huddled together and they’re talking. That’s the best thing we’ve got,” Chrisman said. I will share with others.”

Chrisman, the organizer of the D-FW chapter of HOW, said a close friend once asked to come and give counseling to medical doctors.

“I said, ‘You’re not coming. You are not allowed. Let’s not do that,’” Chrisman said. An example of a HOW is to allow therapy sessions to happen naturally, usually outside on the lake away from it all.

“It’s almost like a magnet,” Fry said. “I mean, they start fishing as individuals, and then it all comes together.”

Out on the lake, two kayaks were drifting side by side as Chrisman and Fry described it. Judging by the laughter that echoed our way, the conversation seemed to be more about fishing than healing. But that is also welcome. Every conversation doesn’t have to be serious. And, as anyone who’s talked to a therapist knows, human connection is often a bit like holding back — dropping the phone, waiting for someone to bite, maybe even struggling.

“We were in this lake a few years ago,” Chrisman dived into my gaze. “We did an event for the Bonham VA and it was about this time of year and it was 39 degrees. Stephen, my right-hand man … and one of the doctors sat down. in that corner for about three hours, they are still talking.”

Once Chrisman and Fry get started, the stories come fast and staccato – snippets of footage. Another vet named Ray told Chrisman, “This program – you – saved my life.” When he arrived at HOW, Ray was taking 17 prescription drugs, Chrisman said. With the help of her doctor and the support of HOW, she weaned her to four, after which she went on to attend the University of Texas Arlington and teach.

Ray’s assessment was no exaggeration; each of these stories could be a life saved. According to the veterans organization Mission Roll Call, more than 24 US veterans die by suicide every day. And the suicide rate of veterans (33.9 per 100,000) is more than double the rate of non-veterans (16.7 per 100,000), according to the Department of Veterans Affairs’ “2023 National Veteran Suicide Prevention Annual Report.”

HOW it helps families too. Chrisman recalled a husband and wife with three young children who attended an event. The husband took the children to fish while his wife watched.

“And immediately I saw him crying,” Chrisman said. “And I went up to see what was happening. He said, ‘This is the first time in a month that I have time alone.'”

Chrisman is not a fighter himself – he’s just a citizen who wants to say thank you.

“George is — man, he’s an angel with all the time he’s put into this,” Fry, a Vietnam veteran, said as Chrisman was distraught.

Chrisman took over leadership of the chapter from a friend who was a veteran, shortly after it was founded 14 years ago. Their biggest event to date attracted 75 people. On Oct. 19, there were 12.

That included non-veteran volunteers like Joseph Germain who pushed my kayak over the mud launch so I could get the full experience. Germain, 42, said he got into trouble and was offered a public service. He chose to work with HOW. His community service is over now, but he still volunteers.

He said: “I’m probably addicted for life.”

There are 58 HOW chapters spread across the country, two in North Texas. According to HOW spokeswoman Faeda Elliott, the organization has served more than 64,000 veterans and first responders as well as 16,000 family members. An internal performance report found that 93% of participants reported that HOW programs helped them pay more attention. Each chapter is self-sustaining. National meetings are infrequent and leadership is widespread.

At the level of the chapters, the whole process feels very homely, from the plywood cabinets of the kayak trailer Chrisman built himself, to the nearly 400-name email list he built. orally.

That’s how Erik Chacon, 30, heard about this group. He separated from the Army three years ago and now lives in Garland. She brings her 5-year-old daughter, Isabella, to HOW events. Isabella wisely avoided answering the reporter’s questions but confirmed with a smile that she caught a bigger fish than her father that day.

Chacon acknowledged that there are many veterans groups — more than 45,000 of them, according to NonProfit PRO — many of which are small and fragmented like HOW. He wants to create a center of sorts to connect doctors with jobs that match their interests, as well as mental health resources. Surprisingly, the Department of Veterans Affairs does not provide such registration, Chacon said. But the National Defense Agency has an associated database called the National Resource Directory. As of Oct. 20, it did not include HOW.

Just before lunch, I left the group, which was on the dock and gathered some snacks. They no longer needed me to listen to their conversations. On the way home, I realized another horrible reason it’s so quiet at HOW events, and most of the vets aren’t in the water.

Most of them did not survive to receive the invitation.

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