Our duty to care
Through sheer tragic misfortune, Nelida Bagley has become an expert on our nation’s treatment of its wounded veterans and their relatives.
The last four years of her life have taken her to veterans’ hospitals from West Roxbury to Washington to Bethesda, Md., to Tampa.
Those are the places her son, Staff Sergeant Jose Pequeño of the Army National Guard, has sought to reassemble his body and his soul since being injured in combat in Iraq.
Pequeño was the police chief in tiny Sugar Hill, N.H. But his longstanding fascination with the military - he grew up in a military family - led him to join first the Marine Corps and then the National Guard.
His unit was ambushed on July 1, 2005. He suffered head injuries that have left him paralyzed and speechless. His prognosis is, at best, uncertain. He is a father of three who may never walk again and will certainly never work again.
As difficult as his ordeal has been for him, it’s been no easier for the people caring for him. Pequeño’s mother and sister slept in a chair next to his bed for the two months he spent at the VA Hospital in West Roxbury.
Theirs is the kind of ordeal that has inspired the idea of Fisher Houses. Funded by the Fisher Foundation, the houses provide shelter adjacent to veterans hospitals for families of wounded veterans. It’s the same idea as a Ronald McDonald House, just for a different clientele, one that is often neglected.
There are 46 Fisher Houses nationwide, but Boston doesn’t have one yet. The Fisher Foundation has donated $3 million for a house in West Roxbury, but local donors will have to raise another $3 million.
That’s a tall order in a fund-raising environment that is brutal for all kinds of charities. Fisher House Boston broke ground last fall, but is far from meeting its fund-raising goal. The effort is being spearheaded by Tom Lyons, long the face of Boston’s veterans community.
“I was honored to meet Jose and his family, and I saw Nellie and her daughter Elizabeth sleeping in reclining chairs just to be near him,’’ Lyons said. “I’ve used them as an example of why we need this.’’
Fund-raising here was behind schedule until
It’s no secret that the treatment of our nation’s returning veterans leaves a great deal to be desired. The shabby care at Walter Reed Army Medical Center has been the center of a scandal that forced the secretary of the Army to resign last year. The relatives of the wounded are treated as an afterthought, which is why the idea of housing them is both timely and necessary.
Nellie Bagley told me her son is making progress. While he can’t talk, he can now recognize visitors and maintain eye contact. They are in Tampa now because the veterans’ hospital there is renowned for its trauma care. His mother’s accommodations have improved as a result of the move. She lives in the Fisher House there, and says she welcomes the camaraderie that comes from spending her days with other families coping with similar tragedies.
“The families bond and start beautiful friendships that only we understand,’’ Bagley said. “It’s a chance to release the pressure of going through the worst time of your life. I call it a comfort blanket for us.’’
She says she and her son are likely to be in Tampa for a long time. She clings to her hope that he will recover. “I’m a mom,’’ she said. “I’d like to think he is going to recover 100 percent. We’re going to make sure he recovers. He’s come a long way already.’’
Adrian Walker is a Globe columnist. He can be reached at walker@globe.com. ![]()



