Celebrating veterans in metro Atlanta | Voices for Equality

Carsi Betts makes sure every boot is in place, every uniform spick and span. The Newton High School senior has a lot of responsibility as the commanding officer of the Marine Corps JROTC and a lot of pressure in the role. 

"I do uniform checks for gunning and I teach the classes sometimes," Betts said. "It’s not that I’m looking out for myself anymore. It’s not just a me thing. I’m over the whole program, so I have to look out for everybody. If one of the cadets does wrong in the hallway, I’ll talk to them and say 'hey, don’t do this.' I’ll take accountability for it. It’s not your fault, it’s mine. I should have showed you what to do.”

Betts oversees 120 cadets and draws inspiration from her family's military history. Her brother and sister-in-law were in the Army. 

“I’m going to face a lot of challenges being a minority," Betts said. "I’m African-American, I’m a female. It’s a lot. People are intimidated by that.”

According to the U.S. Department of Labor, there are 2 million female veterans, about 10% of the veteran population. Women account for the fastest-growing group of veterans. 

For retired Sgt. Maj. Debra Spencer, getting ahead in her career meant conquering a different type of battle. 

“We were competing with men, and we had to be better," Spencer said. "We had to be more disciplined. We had to outrun, out-pushup, out-situp. We were not allowed to train with our male counterparts, and so we trained under a women’s training group called Women’s Army Corps.”

Spencer stuck it out through several instances of sexism and racism in her 25-year career in the Army. She spent 15 years as an Army reservist and ten years on active duty. She enlisted in 1975 and retired in 2014, earning promotions and medals along the way as she protected the land she loves. 

“Although I am female and I am African-American and I’m a single parent as well, I never allowed those obstacles to hinder my goal," Spencer said. "That goal was to represent the United States of America. When they found out I’m just as equally mentally, just as smart as they were, just as competent as they were, that they could learn from me, that we were team players, that we were all in this thing for one cause together – it actually minimized much of the racism.”

Spencer, a member of AMVETS, is passionate about teaching subsequent generations about the importance of military service. It is that goal to achieve a common cause, hard work and discipline that serve as inspiration for Carsi Betts. 

“My bearing has to be good," Betts said. "I can’t let nobody throw me off my game, because people are going to say things. People are going to talk, but I can’t let that affect me. I’ve got to be accountable. I’ve got to move on and stay motivated to get to where I want to be. It’s not just wearing the uniform, it’s the responsibility you earn when you put the uniform on."

Charles Wyatt remembers the day he enlisted in the U.S. Army: October 26, 1959. He hadn't thought about the decision much. He spent many of his early years in the military in Munich, Germany. While combat was far from Wyatt's mind, the Vietnam War thrust him onto the battlefield.  

"I had three tours in Vietnam," Wyatt said. “I flew in helicopters. I wasn’t a pilot. I was a door gunner, mechanic and a crew chief.”

Wyatt worked on UH-D1 helicopters in the jungles of Vietnam, flying combat missions. He earned medals and lost friends by the dozen.

“I had never been shot at personally that I could recall," Wyatt said. "I heard 'zing!' So I told the pilot, I said we just got shot at, he said it happens every day. I was never scared. It was just a psychological thing had taken over my mind and body.”

Once it was time to retire in May 1987, First Sgt. Charles Wyatt wondered about his future. 

"A lot of guys don’t talk about it," Wyatt said. "It’s something that bothers them, us. We just keep it silent. “I didn’t start opening up until I went to see a psychiatrist. I had post-traumatic stress like most of the GI’s.”

Wyatt got help, and through the organization AMVETS, he's able to offer help to others struggling to make connections and cope with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.

“The brotherhood is real good," Wyatt said. “Somebody’s gotta call these guys, talk with them and let them know we’re thinking about them.”

Wyatt will often get his fellow veterans birthday cards to show he cares about them. He will also visit high schools and share his story about a whim turned into a why. 

“What would’ve happened to me if I hadn’t joined the military? I could have joined the Black Panthers, or I could have gotten into a gang," Wyatt said. A lot of guys don’t talk about it. It’s something that bothers them, us. We just keep it silent. But I thought the service was the best thing that happened to me. I wasn’t going nowhere.”

The state of Georgia is home to 97,000 veteran-owned businesses. Tens of thousands of other veterans contribute to the workforce each and every day. Now, there's a new program at Emory University specially tailored for a life in business after the service.

Retired Lieutenant General Ken Keen developed the Masters in Business for Veterans Degree at the university, inspired by the only other such program in the county, 2,200 miles away in southern California.

The program condenses a typical MBA program in half the time.

It focuses on translating military values like leadership, selfless service, a task-based approach, collaboration, communication, and time management to the business world.

“Being able to connect the talent in the military and giving them that little boost to help them connect their talent with the funding they need to chase their dreams, I think it’s a small way of paying it back and giving them that opportunity,” Keen explained.

Applications for the Masters in Business for Veterans Program launched in July. The program is looking for veterans to start in May of 2024.

the Top Dogg K-9 Foundation, a little confidence, consistency, and companionship can make a difference in helping veterans find life-saving connections.

The nonprofit organization provide provides veterans who have PTSD, depression and anxiety. Veteran Antonio Merriweather is just one of about 400 veterans the non-profit has helped over the last decade.

“When I came here, I was suffering from PTSD, depression, anxiety. It was about as bad as it could get," said Merriweather.

While battling an opioid addition, Merriweather said he tried everything from therapy to exercise.

"Not to say therapy doesn’t work, it does. Not to say medicine doesn't work, because it does too. But, this was the piece of the puzzle that was missing," explained Merriweather.

Blake 'Top Dogg' Rashad, the nonprofit's founder, assists veterans through his foundation because he has personally faced mental health challenges.

“I suffered from anxiety and depression all of my life. I always realized I was a lot calmer when I was around dogs," said Rashad.

Rashad spent his youth working with dogs and then was assigned to train K-9s during his time in service. Afterwards, he trained K-9s for the City of Atlanta, before opening the Top Dogg K-9 Foundation in 2011. 

With 200 veterans desperately waiting to be matched with a service animal, the founder has seen a slowdown in donations.

"We have these veterans waiting on our list, eagerly waiting and wanting these dogs and financially we can’t provide the training to the dogs to give to them. And that’s frustrating," explained Rashad.

The non-profit owner is now faced with the unimaginable of having to adopt out 37 dogs, because they don't have the means to continue training them. Rashad and his partners have set forth a goal of raising $50,000 by Veteran's day in hopes of continuing their efforts.

While the daunting funding issues puts his organization at risk, Rashad sees it as only an obstacle. He said he has confidence the community will step up consistently to keep his mission on course. 

Those who would like to support the Top Dogg K-9 Foundation can do so here.

This weekend, the country is honoring the lives of those who've died in combat, but most agree more needs to be done for veterans who suffer from mental health diagnoses like PTSD. 

This is why, a former Atlanta police officer, disabled Marine veteran has created a nonprofit to support those with PTSD returning from war.

Service members are dying by suicide at a rate four times higher than in combat, according to the United Service Organizations.

"You get in your own head, and it's like, I don't like how I feel on the surface," Service-Connected Disabled Veteran and Deep Blue Dive Therapy Founder Larry Wilson said. "And a lot of people I find feel that way, but the moment you crack the waves, and you crack the seal, it's a different world; now you can see because your eyes are open."

He had already seen a whole lot when he started the nonprofit. Wilson served over a decade as a P.O.S.T. Certified Police Officer and has 1,755 varied law enforcement training hours with the last three years of his police service as an Undercover Narcotics Agent in metro Atlanta.

"Swimming on the surface, there's a little trepidation because you don't know what's down there," he said. 

Years after returning home from combat, he was scared to dive into the PTSD diagnosis that changed how he thought of himself.

"It's kind of hard to one day be on top of the world and then needing help. It's a weird thing, I fell into that," he said. 

To pull himself out, he had to go in.

"Once you get underneath, literally, they think I am just a big ugly fish. And they don't care," he said.

The water washing away the rigid demands of who they are supposed to be.

"You become part of the world around you. And you don't have all the noise and the things that are distracting and stressful," Georgia Aquarium Salute to Veterans Program Manager Jason Bush said. "You have to be in the moment." 

Many of the divers have lost friends in arms to suicide.

"Much like many of us that struggle with the invisible wounds of war, it's much like leaving all of that on the surface. And not being bound by the things you struggle with every day. The anxiety, the PTSD, the depression," Bush said. 

The American Institute of Stress is studying the benefits of scuba diving for PTSD. Wilson said diving can save lives. 

"Pushing yourself to find ways to help yourself. Knowing there is a problem and getting deeper. And then finding ways to help yourself," Wilson said.  

Helping with a new mission to heal.

Stephany Litvin can usually be found in Roswell's emergency 911 center, working a 12-hour shift. The thrill of a different day, every day plus the ability to help others drove her to serve there for the last two years. 

"We answer emergency and non-emergency calls, dispatching police, fire and medical to various calls," Litvin said. “We're telling people how to report fraud or give CPR instructions to try and help a loved one."

Litvin said Roswell's 911 center could field up to 300 calls a day. While born in Athens, Litvin lived a lot of her life in Pennsylvania. She eventually joined the Army National Guard, rose to the rank of sergeant, and faced deployment to Afghanistan. She served as a motor transport operator overseas, doing convoy security, guarding locals and transporting supplies to different bases. Litvin said she spent about a year in Afghanistan and her time there came with loss.

“To be in a different country that doesn’t have the same stuff you have, it’s different and kind of life-changing and eye-opening," Litvin said. "For the other platoon in my company, three of them weren’t so lucky. Unfortunately, they were killed by an IED (improvised explosive device).”

Litvin now bears a tattoo on her arm, showing three pairs of combat boots with helmet-topped weapons inside them and surrounded by angel wings. She has served as a dispatcher since 2013, and she eventually moved to Roswell during the pandemic to be closer to her parents. 

The City of Roswell recently honored the highly-decorated military veteran for her service to her country and her community. Litvin said she will continue to try and save lives and livelihoods, a nod to her calling to help even if it's now in a different uniform.

"Even where there’s not so great outcomes, I know I did everything to the best of my ability to try and get that person help," Litvin said. “I’m still trying to figure out life myself and figure out what I want to do. But for the future, now is going to be continuing to help others - and I enjoy doing that.” 

One surgery changed two lives.

Each April, advocates raise awareness about National Donate Life Month. One metro Atlanta man is spreading the word on organ donation because that's what saved his life -- and potentially his donor's.

Years after Corro'll Driskell's kidneys stopped working, he was able to get one from a dear friend-turned-sister.

"She is a sister now," he said. "I owe her my life. She stepped up to the plate."

In 2016, the war Veteran’s kidneys stopped working. He went to the Atlanta VA Medical Center for treatment. For years, he was on dialysis for 12 hours a night.

“It was zapping my energy," he said. "I felt like I couldn’t function. I went from about 200 pounds down to 120 pounds."

He got on a transplant list through Emory University Hospital.

“I just knew that my opportunity for a transplant would’ve taken another 4-5 years," he added.

That time was cut to about 1-2 years thanks to his brother's significant other: Stephanie Soto. Soto, who describes herself as a humanitarian and is into fitness, says she did not hesitate once.

"The gratification of giving a family more time with someone that they truly, truly love made me feel great," she said.

In February 2022, Driskell received his new kidney. His life changed at that moment.

"Stephanie was like a guardian angel," he said. "I conjured up images of her with wings and everything."

Just five months later, Soto's life changed, too.

“I was like, 'You actually saved my life, too.' They did a full body scan where they found a mass," Soto said.

Scans post-surgery showed Soto had six precancerous masses on her right breast and multiple on the left. So she decided to get a double mastectomy.

“I want to live. I don't want to worry," Soto added. "It's hard. But I'm really, really grateful that I donated because otherwise, I wouldn't have found out."

She said without organ donation -- which prompted the scan -- she could be living a very different life.

"Who knows the state that this would have ended up in -- dying or if it were to metastasize. I'm definitely grateful," she said.

Driskell says he now sees life differently.

"I appreciate being able to see the skies, see the trees; I appreciate the elements," he said. "I walk in the rain without an umbrella. I was stuck in the house for at least five years!"

Driskell is infinitely grateful to his family, friends, fraternity brothers, and Soto for their support.

"I'm not a good patient," Driskell said while laughing. "You can ask some of the nurses. You can definitely ask my wife, maybe my boys."

He has four children, two boys and two girls. He said because of Soto, they can grow up with their dad.

"Stephanie made that sacrifice for me and there's nothing I wouldn't do for Stephanie," he said. "That's my sister"

Soto got her mastectomy in October 2022, just 8 months after donating her kidney.

"It was a very, very challenging and rough recovery. I will admit that. But to say the least, I am so grateful," she said.

She urges people to get annual check-ups, if not, more often. To those who are looking into donating an organ, she says to make sure to talk to people who have been through it. 

She added that if you have some sort of illness, you are not alone. She recommends joining Facebook groups to get support from people going through a similar situation.

"I have no regrets donating my kidney to him," she said. "There's nothing like seeing this person transform into a happy person, being able to be outdoors, being able to travel, being able to do things that he has not been able to do for so long after being in consistent pain."

To learn more about National Donate Life Month, click here.