Helping Homeless Veterans: What You Can Do—And Why Some Say No
You see someone with a cardboard sign: Veteran. Hungry. Anything helps.
You feel it—compassion, doubt, guilt, frustration. Maybe all at once.
Homelessness among veterans is complex. It’s not always visible. It’s not always what you think. There is no one-size-fits-all fix.
This blog covers two big areas:
How regular folks can help, without doing harm
Why some veterans don’t or can’t accept help, even when it’s offered
Doesn’t the VA Say Homeless Numbers Are Going Down?
Yes, officially, veteran homelessness has decreased—at least in urban areas with intensive VA resources and outreach. The 2023 PIT (Point-in-Time) count showed a 4% drop from the previous year.
That number does not reflect rural areas like ours, where homelessness often looks like:
A family camping at a park until a paycheck or retirement pay comes in
A veteran couch surfing for months
A household losing their home after a divorce and not finding another affordable place nearby
We’re in a rural part of Virginia. Housing here is scarce, prices are up, and the few options available aren’t often veteran- or family-friendly. Some of the people we serve technically aren’t counted as homeless because they have a tent or are living in a car.
How to Help a Homeless Veteran—Without Making It Worse
1. Don’t Assume. Ask.
Some veterans don’t use the word “veteran” at all—even if they served. Here are a few reasons:
Their discharge status may have left them ineligible for benefits. They were told they didn’t qualify—but laws have changed, and many older veterans were never notified that they are now eligible.
Women are more likely to say “yes” to having served than to identifying as a veteran—especially if their service included trauma.
Over the last 50 years, federal definitions of "veteran" have changed multiple times, leaving many confused about what they’re allowed to claim.
If you’re trying to help, it’s better to ask, “Did you serve in the military?” than “Are you a veteran?”
2. Refer. Don’t Rescue.
It can feel good to jump in. People want to help. They offer to pay for hotel rooms or take someone into their home. That urge comes from a good place, but it often does more harm than good.
Here’s what happens when well-meaning folks try to "rescue":
They may offer housing without understanding the trauma triggers, legal risk, or complexity involved.
They sometimes make promises they can’t keep—breaking trust that was already hanging by a thread.
They unintentionally derail the long-term process a veteran may already be in with another agency.
Data shows that when veterans work with trained outreach coordinators who follow a structured process, they are more likely to:
Secure long-term, stable housing
Get connected to benefits and services they qualify for
Avoid being retraumatized or shuffled around
If you want to help, here’s a better approach:
Ask if you can buy them a coffee next week and check in. Build a connection.
You don’t need to be a case manager—just be a steady presence.
Building connection isn’t instant. When someone knows you’ll show up again, that trust can grow. When they’re ready, you’ll already be someone they feel safe talking to.
In the meantime, if they ask for help, point them toward:
VA Homeless Programs (call 877-424-3838)
Virginia Department of Veteran Services: https://vvn.dvs.virginia.gov/
Local outreach teams like Mountain Valor
3. Focus on the Basics—With Realistic Expectations
Water, non-perishable food, hand warmers, hygiene items, and socks are essential. Those things can make a hard night a little more survivable.
In some cases, those items will be traded or sold. That’s not disrespect. It’s survival. A veteran might trade socks for gas to get to a job site. A hygiene kit might be exchanged for baby formula.
If that bothers you, and you want to ensure your support is used as intended, here are some options:
Purchase gift cards to local stores that sell essentials
Donate through local nonprofits that already know the individual’s needs
Ask before giving: “Would this help you right now?”
Sometimes, the most respectful thing you can do is give them the option to say no.
Why Some Veterans Say No to Help
This is the part that drives people crazy. We’ve had veterans turn down housing, ignore paperwork, or vanish mid-process.
Here’s why that happens:
Mental Health and Trauma
Trauma rewires the brain. If a veteran has PTSD, TBI, or moral injury, even well-intentioned help can feel threatening or manipulative.
Barriers to Care
Getting help often means navigating:
Outdated intake systems
Lack of transportation
Long waitlists
Strict eligibility criteria
Inconsistent case management
It’s not just about asking for help. It requires stamina, clarity, and time—three things in short supply when you’re cold and exhausted.
Shame and Pride
Some veterans carry deep shame about asking for help. That’s layered with military culture, which often views self-sufficiency as the highest value. Pride and trauma mix into a heavy weight that many carry alone.
In rural communities, the cultural pressure to be self-reliant is even stronger. Independence isn’t just valued—it’s expected. Accepting help can feel like public failure, especially when everyone in town knows your business.
That combination—military pride and rural stoicism—makes it even harder to reach veterans who need support.
No Good Options
Even when a veteran wants help, the system can still shut the door.
They might be told:
They make $50 too much to qualify
Their discharge status disqualifies them
The shelter has a 3+ month wait
There are no local units available at all
For families, the challenges multiply. Some shelter programs require school-age children of different genders to have their own room, even in temporary housing. That sounds reasonable on paper, but in practice it means entire families are turned away for not having access to something that doesn't exist in the first place.
These are not rare cases. This is happening in communities across rural Virginia right now.
What We’re Seeing in Rural Virginia
Here’s what rural homelessness looks like in our region right now:
One family is living in tents at a campground until their retirement pay comes in on the 1st.
Another veteran is losing their home after a divorce. The house is too costly to maintain, and no affordable alternatives exist nearby.
Others are sleeping in their cars or crashing with relatives. The waiting lists for subsidized or veteran-friendly housing are full.
In the New River Valley—an area we support—there is a shortfall of over 7,500 housing units for the current population. That is just one example of how rural housing shortages are fueling a rise in homelessness among veterans in this part of the state.
The ripple effects are everywhere: higher rents, no local shelter beds, and impossible logistics for families trying to stay together while they get back on their feet.
We hand out packets. We walk folks through applying for benefits. We try to make the path clear.
That doesn’t mean they always follow it. Sometimes there’s just too much anger at both the situation and the system.
You cannot force someone to be ready. It is frustrating, heartbreaking, and real. If fixing it were easy, it wouldn’t still be such a widespread problem.
So What Can You Do?
Care, even when it’s messy
Refer, not rescue
Give in a way that preserves dignity
Stay available—because readiness rarely happens on anyone else's timeline
If you're ready to accept assistance, we’ll help you find it.