MONTEREY, Tenn. (WTVF) — If it wasn't for his new friend Corey, Duane Whitman might not be here. They're out on a hunt at the Wilderness Hunting Lodge in Monterey, not for elk or bison, but for wild boar. "I’m going to go ahead and lock and load," said Whitman.
"It was right, see the brush moving?" whispered Corey Watson, who organized the hunt.
Photojournalist Catherine Steward and I followed Corey and Duane on their hunt, up steep hills and down tricky embankments. But amid the thrill of the chase and the sting of a missed shot, these two wounded combat veterans are also searching for something else — a wooded haven where they can heal.
"I can get the veterans out in God’s beauty, and just detach from the stresses of the world," said Watson.
Duane sustained some life-changing disabilities during tours to both Iraq and Afghanistan. "My respiratory is shot, I’ve had 5 foot surgeries, 7 knee surgeries, neck surgery -- so I’m spent right now," said Whitman, who was catching his breath during a break in the hunt. "You know you walk, your toes grab and stuff. Unfortunately, I don’t have that capability, but I make the best of it."
But perhaps, even more significant, are the wounds you can't see. "You’re wired one way to do a job, and then when you come back home," said Whitman. "They don’t defuse you, they don’t dewire you. Unfortunately, that’s something you have to learn how to deal and transition. And that’s been the hardest part, not only me but on the family."
"A lot of times you just feel broken, you feel, I guess your self-confidence isn’t where you should be because you can’t do what you did previously," said Watson.
Watson doesn't just sympathize with Whitman, he's still hunting down those demons himself. "I struggle with the visions of everything I saw. You struggle with seeing literally your life flash before your eyes. I just got back and struggled in many things. Struggled in my faith, struggled in friendships, with family," said Watson.
That's why Corey Watson runs the Tennessee Chapter of Cross the Divide. It's a nonprofit that takes veterans with disabilities on guided hunts. "Going out on a hunt and having a goal: we’re going to go get a deer or get an elk and achieving that goal, helps instill more self-confidence in yourself," said Watson.
Watson started with the organization as one of the guests. He felt so moved by what the program does, he decided to set up a chapter here in Tennessee. He took the first Tennessee veteran on a hunt last year.
Physically, it reminds veterans like Duane, that even though it may be difficult, what he gains is worth the pain. "You’re in God’s country, that’s all it is. You’re one with nature and I just think that recharges you," said Whitman.
Of course, not every wounded veteran can do what Duane can. So Cross the Divide has tools available for them too. "The track chair that we have here enables people that can’t walk at all or have limitations in walking, get out into the woods and it can navigate some pretty significant terrain and obstacles," explained Watson.
Of course, veterans can get meaning out of these hunts, even if they don't get a kill. But it's way more fun and thrilling when they do.
Duane and Corey were perched on a hillside when a herd of boars came walking towards them. Whitman, the only one who brought a rifle that day, lined up his shot. "Bunch of pigs, pigs pigs, pigs, pigs," Whitman said with excitement. "Close your ears!"
With one shot, he took down a small boar. "Got him," Whitman said with relief.
Pausing only a few seconds, Watson grabbed Whitman's hand and asked him to bow his head. "Let’s say a quick prayer," said Watson. "Father, thank you for this day, thank you for this time that we could come out and harvest. Be with us the rest of the day, and Father thank you so much for what you do for us. In Jesus' name, we pray, Amen."
"Amen!" echoed Whitman.
Duane told us, getting a chance to get out and talk it out, is truly an answered prayer. "Definitely helps," said Whitman. "People don’t realize the stuff that we go through. Life’s great when you’re deployed and you get to do your job. But then when you come back home and get thrown into the civilian world... struggles."
He shared a message for anyone else out there, who may relate to that too. "I would just like to tell — you’re not alone," said Whitman, fighting back tears. "We struggle through a lot, and it does, it takes a lot. It takes a lot to admit there’s something wrong with you or you know you’ve got a problem. But it’s good. It’s good that there are people out here, organizations, that would be willing to help."
Unfortunately, one hunt won't heal everything for these brave veterans. "What’s my purpose? What can I do because you’re set to do one thing but you can’t do that thing no more," lamented Whitman.
But one thing is pretty certain. If it wasn't for Corey and Cross the Divide, Duane wouldn't be here, reveling in this remarkable moment. "Definitely one for the books, come on little bitty, little bitty thing," said Whitman, as he scooped up his boar and drug him to the waiting off-road vehicle.
How you can get involved
Cross the Divide covers all the expenses for veterans who join them on hunts, including gas money, hunting licenses, ammunition, and reservation fees. Donations help make the hunts possible. They've also relied on the generosity of companies that have helped with getting the track chair and gifts-in-kind.
Watson is also constantly looking for the next veteran he can take on a hunt or fishing trip. He found Duane by cold-calling American Legion Halls around the state. For ways to donate, volunteer, or nominate a veteran for a guided hunt, you can find more information on Cross the Divide's website.
Do you have more information about this story? You can email me at Chris.Davis@newschannel5.com.
It's truly the small things that add up to a great day - and Warrick in Lebanon is having a big impact. His familiar face is becoming a staple in one part of the community and inspiring closer connection in the simplest way. Enjoy his warm personality! You may even feel inclined to wave to a stranger today, too.
-Rebecca Schleicher
