Our Fight At Home: When the System Fails the Soldiers

Honoring the Sacrifice, Failing the Care

Odessa Carter served his country with discipline and distinction. A Black veteran stationed in Texas during 1973, and was in El Paso during the 1980s, Carter faced the dual challenge of military life and navigating a racially biased system. Despite the obstacles, he rose through the ranks, earning three Meritorious Service Medals, four Army Commendation Medals, and seven Good Conduct Medals throughout his 21-year career.

But when his time in uniform ended, the support he expected from the country he served fell painfully short.

“If you would have asked me this three or four years ago,” Carter said, “I could have told you a lot about how bad the VA is.”

That sentiment is echoed by thousands of veterans across Texas and the nation, many of whom face persistent barriers to the care they deserve—barriers worsened by geography, race, and policy decisions made far from the front lines of their lives.

A Crisis of Geography and Equity

Texas is home to one of the largest veteran populations in the country, yet care is often hardest to access in its smallest communities. 

On July 3, Word In Black’s Jennifer Porter Gore highlighted how rural hospitals and communities of color are particularly at risk under the proposed federal budget cuts. For the many Black and Brown veterans living in tiny Texas towns—places dotting the map from east to west—access to reliable healthcare is already a challenge. With fewer local facilities and less investment in rural health infrastructure, these communities now face even greater risk under proposals aimed at “economic efficiency.”

That “efficiency” may come at a steep cost. And veterans—especially those aging, disabled, or battling chronic illness—are often the first to feel it.

The Invisible Battle: Mesothelioma and Misdiagnosis

The stakes are particularly high for veterans facing long-latent conditions like mesothelioma, a cancer linked to asbestos exposure—something disturbingly common in military settings. Between 1999 and 2017, Texas recorded over 15,000 asbestos-related deaths, including 2,688 from mesothelioma.

In Dallas County alone, 842 people lost their lives to asbestos-related illnesses. Nationally, about 3,000 Americans are diagnosed with mesothelioma annually, and 30% of them are veterans. What’s worse, nearly 81% of stage 1 diagnoses are misclassified—meaning veterans aren’t just battling cancer, they’re fighting misdiagnosis, delayed care, and administrative roadblocks at the same time.

A national mesothelioma registry could improve diagnostic accuracy and treatment timelines. But without consistent investment and attention, this solution remains mostly theoretical.

The Politics of Distraction

Just days after Gore’s reporting, Texas Governor Greg Abbott stood before cameras following the devastating Kerrville floods—which claimed more than 100 lives—and compared rescue operations to a football game. His analogy felt out of place and out of touch. And while Texans grieved, others questioned whether political rhetoric was outpacing real solutions.

That same week, VA Secretary Doug Collins made a visit to Dallas for the 80th Blinded Veterans Association Convention. He asked how best to serve veterans in the region and toured the construction site of a new Long-Term Care Spinal Cord Injury Center—a promising development for the local veteran community. But behind the scenes, the VA was undergoing its own transformation.

On the very day of his Dallas visit, the VA announced plans to reduce its workforce by nearly 30,000 employees by the end of the fiscal year, citing attrition and early retirements as a way to avoid a large-scale layoff.

On January 1, 2025, VA had roughly 484,000 employees

As of June 1, 2025, that number had dropped to 467,000

By September 30, an additional 12,000 workers are expected to leave

Though VA leadership assures the public this won’t disrupt care, the timing raises questions. How can a shrinking staff meet the rising needs of an aging, growing veteran population—especially in underserved areas?

Personal Stories, Systemic Problems

Carter’s story illustrates both the resilience of veterans and the fractures in the very systems designed to support them.

He shared an encounter with a VA doctor that spoke volumes: “I reported the doctor… He called me at my house and told me I got him in trouble… I told him, ‘You act like you don’t want to wait on me. You talk to me crazy.’”

The result? He never saw that doctor again—but the experience left a bitter mark.

Even his cousin, a combat veteran, was denied the full care he needed. “He should’ve had 100% disability. They only gave him 70%, and he had to fight like hell to get that 70%.”

Dallas Weekly editor Sherri Yarbrough, a Marine Corps veteran who served in the early 1980s, never used VA healthcare—despite decades of veteran status. Her reason? She simply never trusted or needed the system. “It is always in the back of my mind as an option,” she said, “but I don’t even know what’s available nowadays.” Her story is a reminder: not all veterans avoid the system because they’re healthy. Some avoid it because they don’t believe it works.

A Nation Still in Debt

There is no denying that progress has been made. Carter admits that VA services have improved where he lives now in Tennessee. But Texas, with its massive veteran population and rural sprawl, has a long way to go.

A shrinking VA staff, underfunded hospitals, and distant policy priorities are real risks—not just to health outcomes, but to the dignity of those who served.

As the dust settles on Capitol Hill and campaign trails heat up again, one question remains: What’s truly at stake for our veterans?

If we continue to measure care by cost instead of consequence, our veterans—especially those in the smallest, quietest corners of Texas—will keep fighting battles long after their service ends.

And that’s a war they shouldn’t have to fight alone.

For more in the “Our Fight At Home” series, click here.

Ceara Johnson, Sherri Yarbrough and Zahiyah Carter contributed to this report.