A Ray of Hope: Joe’s Story

The veteran who built a community on wheels

Some afternoons at Welcome Home, staff would glance out the window toward the parking lot and see a small parade of wheelchairs weaving between parked cars. It looked a little like organized chaos, and Joe was usually at the center of it.

During the summer of 2025, Joe became the unofficial ringleader of what we’ll call the “wheelchair rat pack,” a group of four veterans who spent much of their time rolling around the lot together, talking, joking, and occasionally staging what they called the “Wheelchair Olympics” when they thought no one was watching.

“It was fun to see them having such a good time and getting along,” said Al Vargesko, Veterans Housing Specialist and retired Army officer who worked closely with the group. “The truth is, they probably wouldn’t have even talked to each other if it wasn’t for him.” 

Joe had a way of bringing people together. Sometimes that meant organizing friendly races in the parking lot. Other times it meant something as simple as firing up a grill. Joe would often use his own money to buy food and cook for the group, turning an ordinary afternoon into a gathering where the veterans could relax, laugh, and spend time together.

“They’d all come together, eat, and just enjoy being around each other,” Al said. “I miss that.”

Joe arrived at Welcome Home in March 2025 after a difficult stretch of circumstances. He had been living with his sister, but the arrangement wasn’t working, and his arrival at the shelter was delayed for a short time because he was recovering from pneumonia.

Even once he arrived, Joe was facing serious health challenges. He used a wheelchair, relied on oxygen, and was battling multiple forms of cancer.

Joe served in the Navy as a SeaBee from 1978 to 1980 and helped build a base at Diego Garcia in the Indian Ocean. During his service, he volunteered to help dispose of 55-gallon drums of chemicals that had been left over from the Vietnam War. Only later did he learn the chemicals included Agent Orange.

Exposure to Agent Orange has been linked to several serious illnesses among veterans, including certain cancers—conditions Joe would later face himself.

Despite everything he was dealing with, Joe maintained a spirit that stood out to the people around him.

“He always had a ray of hope in his eyes even with all he was going through,” Al said.

While staying at Welcome Home, Joe focused less on himself and more on helping others. That mindset showed itself in a remarkable moment during his stay.

Joe had been offered an apartment at Patriot Place, located just across the street from the shelter, because he qualified as a chronically homeless veteran. But Joe decided to give the opportunity to another veteran he believed needed it more.

The man had been living in the woods before arriving at Welcome Home and was also facing serious health challenges. Like Joe, he used a wheelchair and relied on oxygen. Despite their health struggles, the two quickly formed a friendship.

“They’d sit there on oxygen and still smoke,” Al said with a laugh.

That friendship became part of the larger group Joe helped bring together at the shelter. Even while facing some of the most difficult physical challenges of anyone there, Joe remained one of the biggest sources of encouragement for those around him.

During his time at Welcome Home, Joe also worked with the Department of Veterans Affairs to upgrade his disability rating. Eventually, he received life-changing news: he had been awarded 100 percent disability status along with back pay.

Today, Joe lives in a first-floor apartment that meets his mobility needs. He now owns two vehicles and has even been approved for a VA home loan of up to $325,000. He is currently exploring the possibility of purchasing a home in Warrenton, Missouri.

For someone who arrived at Welcome Home recovering from illness and facing homelessness, it’s a remarkable turnaround.

The parking lot that once echoed with laughter, friendly competition, and the whir of wheelchair motors may be quieter now. But that quiet tells a good story.

It means Joe—and the rest of his wheelchair crew—have moved on to homes of their own.