“John’s” story is a little more complicated than others I have written about. I’ll explain why. John is a Vietnam Veteran. He was in the U.S. Army with boots on the ground for most of his enlistment. He was discharged with severe post-traumatic stress disorder.

With little resources and PTSD not recognized at the time of his discharge, he began self-medicating with alcohol. He lost his home, family and became homeless.

He was able to keep his car, although he lost his drivers license. But he would still drive and used it for sleeping.

At the time I met him he had been sober for five years. He found religion, which helped his sobriety and attended Alcoholic Anonymous meetings. He started a support group for other homeless veterans. They would meet in the local park.

However, John remained homeless and was unable to find employment. He did not have an address, which is crucial for job applications and most everything else.

He did receive a small benefit from Veterans Affairs that went automatically to his bank account.

At the cooling center he met Scott. Scott was a heroin addict who was on methadone maintenance. Scott was much younger than John and had several physical injuries due to his heroin addiction. When high, he would often self-mutilate. Scott also had a brain injury from being hit by a car while crossing the street illegally.

John and Scott became partners. John took care of Scott which gave him a purpose. He made sure Scott took his prescribed medication and helped him stay off heroin — not an easy task.

Now on to the heart of this story. Housing for the homeless became available and John and Scott were accepted to the program.

They were so grateful. It was a small complex consisting of 15 units with a nice green area surrounding it. They moved in, so excited they could cook, which John loved to do, and decorate their own space. The complex filled up quickly.

Soon, however, their dreams were shattered. Rules were nonexistent.

Residents were not screened appropriately, so there was a mix of mentally ill, drug addicts and a few others like John and Scott. Contracts were not required, no supervision and no case management for those on medication. No unit checks to make sure units were being kept up.

This is what can happen when residents are mixed and there are no responsibilities or consequences. In my experience, those that do well in housing have some type of purpose that is positive for their mental health.

That can include simple tasks like pulling weeds, being responsible for their own cleanliness and that of their space.

Needless to say, it became impossible to live there. Other homeless would come by and parties became the norm. The parties were noisy and full of alcohol and other substances. Some units were totally destroyed. Again, there were no consequences. It became a place for camps to be set up around the property.

Police had no power. It was on private property.

John and Scott decided to leave and drove to Scott’s family in Florida. Family there accepted them and helped them to find a place to live. They still live there today.

I do hear from John occasionally. Scott has not relapsed to heroin and is doing well. They are happy.

So as we move forward with housing for the homeless, I hope this story will help create responsible vetting for potential residents.

There are many homeless that would appreciate a drug-free place to live. Housing is important.

But please be mindful that the mentally ill should be in separate housing, for safety of others and themselves. Again: Mental illness is never a choice.