Shortly
before his call, another patron had ridiculed his uniform and his Service.
He had a weapon in his bag and had an almost overwhelming urge to use
it.
A stranger in town, passing through, he felt he'd better divert and talk to
someone. Searching for some means to vent his rage other than assault,
he had, on impulse, picked up the barroom phone and dialed the
operator. He must have come down real heavy on her and her
supervisor; he found himself of a sudden switched to a hotline worker at
the local SPS.
We talked for more than three hours. At the outset he was openly
hostile, demanded to know who I was, and how the hell I had been
loaded on to him. When I told him, he said he didn't know what 'suicide
prevention' was about and wanted no part of it. But he didn't hang up,
and we never hung up on anyone.
In our give-and-take, when he realized he was talking to someone who
had more than a passing knowledge of the military, who could respond
in his jargon and relate to his lifestyle and to his feelings, his hostility
eased off. Other feelings began to surface.
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