The Unspoken Legacy: A Veteran's Journey of Family, Service, and Connection
This article was published on Veterans Day on Nov. 2022
Michael Lorenz stood firm as the Boston sunlight illuminated his bearded face almost perfectly. The 43-year-old veteran smiled reading stories from his tours in Afghanistan, Kuwait, and Iraq while standing in front of a wooden shelf full of photos, medals, and airplane figureheads. Lorenz, who served 10 years in the U.S. Air Force as an A-10 weapons loader, compiled a list of stories to remember the trials and tribulations of his service.
But, more importantly, it reminded him of the legacy of his father and grandfather.
“The foundation of my service in the military comes from my family,” Lorenz said showing off the list of stories he produced into a book. “It is very memorable because it holds such a personal history that defines my family’s experience, just like other military families.”
Despite the Lorenz family’s military roots, his father Dennis Lorenz never talked about his military service growing up. Lorenz’s father, who is 72 years old and served during the Vietnam War, had always been reluctant to talk about his service or connect to the military community. In fact, Lorenz’s father had his military metal case tucked away in the corner of his childhood home. Although Lorenz knew military service was important at a very young age, it didn’t dictate his everyday life at home—as it did for many military families.
“Neither my grandfather and father talked about their service much or referenced it,” Lorenz said while shrugging his broad shoulders and wearing a white Boston College sweatshirt. “I probably asked him a few questions and he was fine with it, but it wasn't something that informed our everyday lives.”
But outside the home was a whole different story.
Lorenz grew up in the small military town of Battle Creek, Michigan, which has a population of 50,000 and an airforce base. He remembers loving to hear the sound of military planes hovering over his town growing up. In fact, one of his favorite memories as a child was attending airshows with his family during the summers.
“I loved all things military,” Lorenz said with a smile.
This love, along with his exposure in a military town, influenced Lorenz to take his sophomore year off of college at the University of Michigan to join the Air Force. Not only did this decision help fulfill Lorenz’s desire to join the military, but it also allowed him to continue a childhood passion—airplanes.
“A lot of the toys and pictures I had were of planes,” Lorenz said while staring at the figure of a gray Air Force plane on his wooden shelf. “I don’t know how I got hooked but it was the best thing that could have happened to me.”
Lorenz’s military journey began in the Michigan Air National Guard in 1999 and continued by completing three tours Kuwait (2000, 2002-03), Iraq (2003), and Afghanistan (2007-08). His primary responsibilities were to load weaponry into an aircraft and manage a team of Air Force members to do the same. Although Lorenz said the bullets “loaded were used to bomb the bad guys,” he was fully aware his team’s actions would hit people in cities, adding a moral dilemma to the traditional military stress he and other soldiers faced every day.
“I know the bombs I load dropped on people somewhere. The feeling sucks.” Lorenz said with a firm tone. “But when I stop and reflect. At the time I would take the life of an American soldier. That was our priority at the time,”
However, Lorenz's biggest challenge was not the trials of his service but the return home—a common problem among veterans.
“It’s a jarring reality to come back,” Lorenz said with his arms crossed as he fixed his gray beard. “One minute I will be in that stressful environment, and all of sudden your back with your family who have no idea what you have been there and people who don’t care.”
Yet, Lorenz admits he is lucky that most of his work was “relatively safe” and grateful for the fact that Air force tours are much shorter compared to other branches of the military. Despite having a stressful environment, his military service was nothing compared to his father and grandfather, who went through more “hands-on combat,” according to Lorenz.
“My father has medals of valor,” Lorenz said with pride. “He was in several firefights, shooting back and forth, mines, explosions, all that kind of combat.”
Consequently, just like his family and most veterans, Lorenz’s life after service was challenging as nobody could understand the tribulation of his service—no matter how much he tried. Lorenz, who works in the higher education field, compared the transition from military life to civilian life to a study abroad program on steroids.
“Imagine going to Rome for a study abroad program,” Lorenz explained. “You are in a unique place and don’t talk to anybody from home. Suddenly, you are back home, and your entire lifestyle changes. And you can’t explain to your friends and family your experience or what you saw. You can try but it won’t work.”
Lorenz’s father, who has always been reluctant to military bureaucracy, had a similar experience because he couldn’t find his “military community.” It wasn’t until a few months ago that Dennis Lorenz visited a Veterans Affairs (VA) Office and met with an officer to understand his benefits. Lorenz’s difficult transition and his father's reluctance to meet with the VA motivated him to pursue a career in assisting veterans in getting their benefits and establishing a community.
“There is no transition help for veterans,” Lorenz said after standing up from his seat.”If we ease their transition into society quicker and make it better, we can help a lot of veterans.”
But Lorenz believes this problem is simply the microcosm.
He argues that the bigger issue is the lack of mental health care during and after soldiers’ tours. This lack of care, according to Lorenz, starts as early as basic training because there are no counselors around the soldiers. And, even if there is, there is a stigma for those who are sent to the counselor, as mental weakness is a sign that one cannot handle the stresses of combat.
“It’s kinda a catch-22,” Lorenz said while he shrugged his shoulders. “If somehow there was a counselor, people who went to them would look down upon them. We have gotten better by actually adding those mental health professionals but the stigma is still there.”
Lorenz also said that some service members are scared to seek out mental help because they fear it will lead to a discharge or a reduced role.
“The fear is that their superiors are going to say you are not fit for duty or they aren’t going let you hold a gun,” Lorenz said. “It also pushes to rely more on groups within their unit and count on their fellow service members for support.”
Consequently, the problem worsens after soldiers return from the tour because their support is gone. Despite not having mental health services, Lorenz said the value of having service members around him helped the veteran get through his tours. However, once service members are disconnected from their community, they can often spiral into deeper wholes.
“22 veterans commit suicide every day,” Lorenz said while putting his head down. “We know there is a variety of problems that veterans go through once they return and, yet, we don’t prioritize mental health at all levels.”
However, Lorenz believes this crisis is getting better. Lorenz said the people across the country, as well as scientific research, have backed up support for more counselors to be on bases, as well as anonymity in the process.
“I would like to think mental health is becoming more acceptable,” Lorenz said. “I would like to see the military meet this level of acceptance but it hasn’t become a reality among soldiers.”
Lorenz admits the VA has improved since his first deployment by prioritizing mental health, making appointments anonymous, and adding more counselors. However, he is aware the VA process is often slow and lacks an on-the-ground approach.
“I know the VA gets a bad rep,” Lorenz said waving his hand. “But they have improved since the Walter Reed scandal in 2008. They have increased investment and a more transparent process!” Lorenz has witnessed this dilemma firsthand hand with his father being skeptical of the VA for years. Although his father didn’t need a specific service, Lorenz said his father was a good example of someone who didn’t understand what the VA process looked like and who felt disconnected from the VA.
“It goes both ways,” Lorenz said. “I think the VA has improved a lot and has people who care about veterans, but they aren’t being connected to them. Veterans aren’t reaching us and we can’t get to them.”
But Lorenz admits that some veterans don’t reach out to the VA, despite knowing they have problems and resources. According to Lorenz, these veterans, like this father, are too prideful to ask for help and don’t want to appear as a veteran who needs pity.
“My father didn’t want to be seen as a disabled veteran,” Lorenz said while looking at pictures of his father on his desk. “I don't think every disabled veteran thinks that, but he didn't want to be seen in that crowd.”
The VA also fails to educate veterans about the VA’s transparent and private mental health process, Lorenz said—despite the VA being legally required to respect private data.
“There is anonymity now in the process,” Lorenz said. “Yet many veterans don't know that! That is why they [the VA] has to go and make sure they convince veterans it's to okay use.”
But when service members can reach the VA, they receive care and a community, Lorenz argues. Lorenz’s father, who is going for his second visit soon, said his first time wasn’t too bad.
“My dad is going for another appointment!” Lorenz said with a smile. “I told him it wouldn’t be as bad and he got it over with it. We are all very proud of him.”
However, many veterans often don’t have a support system to help them reach their resources or form a community. Instead veterans, especially those who are impoverished after their service, face higher levels of mental health problems and are less likely to connect with the VA. This lack of outreach, combined with a lack of prioritization of mental health, is a dangerous combination that plagues the VA community.
That is why Lorenz has dedicated the second half of his life to helping bridge the connection between resources and veterans, just like his father. Lorenz, who started his career in the higher education world as residential director at Loyaola Univeristy Chicago, is now an assistant director of Veterans at Boston College. Sitting in the office of Residential Life, Lorenz said he loves his position because he gets to educate people about veterans' issues.
“I love speaking to people about to people about veterans,” Lorenz said with a smile while pointing to me as a reference. “But mainly I answer questions from family, friends, or anybody with questions about veterans and help them get any resources.”
Lorenz also said that he has the privilege of helping veterans who are attending Boston College with their transition into school.
“To go from academic stress to military stress is very challenging,” Lorenz said. “I try to help them build community by connecting them with other veterans. It’s especially hard for those who don't know anybody in the classroom.”
Yet, his primary job is to simply remind veterans they are not alone, which he hopes the military and the VA continue to do as they try to help veterans the best way possible.
The goal, however, is a challenging one.
But Lorenz believes it is possible as it requires people to open up about having conversations with each other. Lorenz added that he believes everyone should see a therapist simply because “it makes you feel good.”
“I have seen a therapist,” he said as he lifted his arms up. “We all get stressed and angry and sometimes we just need someone to talk to.”
Conversations, according to Lorenz, are very important because it allows veterans to reflect and unpack their experience. These vital conversions also don’t have to be with a therapist, Lorenz said, as they can be with a friend, colleague, or speaking to a group of students.
In fact, Lorenz’s favorite part of his job is speaking to Professor Ann Burgess’s Wounded Warriors class at BC, a course dedicated to understanding the military experience. Every year, Lorenz is one of many veterans who shares his experience with students and hopes to raise awareness of the importance of veterans' issues.
And—it’s his form of therapy.
“Speaking to you is therapy for me,” Lorenz said, as the crowd of 150 students erupted in laughter at Higgins Hall at Boston College. “No, seriously, it helps me reflect and learn more about myself and that experience.”
A challenge Lorenz said he faces is getting people, especially students, to understand how to talk to veterans.
“People don’t know how to react when we say I’m an Iraq vet or something,” Lorenz said. “And then they don’t know what to say.”
There is also a stigma around veterans talking about their experience at war because of its “awkwardness,” Lorenz said. He argues that people don’t go out of their way to make conversation with veterans and therefore are unaware of how to react to one when they are around them. Instead, Lorenz wants people and veterans to be able to openly talk about their experience “without fear of judgment or without signaling out veterans as a different type of people.”
“That is why conversations are so important, “Lorenz said. “Veterans aren’t just a thing to avoid within an organization, community, or group. They need to be acknowledged and have their experiences considered.”
The importance of conversations, along with the VA’s improvement, is why Lorenz wishes his father had spoken up about his experience sooner. However, Lorenz believes his father and the other veterans he has worked with are examples of the progress that can be made from the ground up. These veterans present the hope of a better future when they are aware of their resources and know that the community cares.
“I just want veterans to know they are not alone,” Lorenz said with the light on his face fading towards the floor of his office. “There are people here who want to help and are willing to hear their experiences. We just need to make more of an effort to meet these veterans.”
Rahim Jessani