Steve Marcus

James Ross, 61, of Laughlin is a homeless veteran who served as a Marine in the 1960s. He says he is owed almost $27,000 in disability benefits. He survives on small loans from friends and food coupons from casino employees, and sometimes sleeps in a friend’s van or the occasional unused comped room.

By Mike Trask

Tue, Apr 8, 2008 (2 a.m.)

Dealing with government bureaucracy is rarely quick or easy.

There are endless phone calls with automated systems, form letters and then more phone conversations with nameless people.

It’s even tougher when you don’t have a phone — or a house, or much of anything save the clothes on your back.

James Ross, 61, is a homeless veteran, having served in the Marines in the late 1960s. He spends his time in Laughlin, meandering around the casinos and sometimes sleeping in a friend’s van.

On Feb. 5, 2007, he was granted veterans disability benefits because of heart problems and bad feet. In government-speak he became 60 percent disabled, qualifying him for a $931 monthly check for which he’s eligible going back to Oct. 25, 2005, when he applied for the benefits.

In total, he’s owed $26,997.

“I haven’t seen a cent,” he said. “It’s taken 15 months to get a check that I should have gotten in 15 days. It’s too long.”

He says he called the state office in Reno about five times, the pension office in Minnesota another five times and the office where the checks are processed in Texas a few more times.

The check is in the mail, he has been told countless times.

“It’s frustrating,” he said. “Every time you talk to someone different and they will not tell you their last name. So then you call again and get another person.”

Meanwhile, Ross waited — and waited — through a succession of frustrating delays. In February and March 2007 the government had the wrong post office box. Over the summer he was told his file was being reviewed again. Then someone told him his criminal background check hadn’t been completed. That took a few more months.

Jail and prison inmates cannot receive the benefits while incarcerated. But Ross said his only legal trouble occurred in 2003 when he spent three nights in the Clark County Detention Center for failure to appear in court on a traffic ticket.

A volunteer from Disabled American Veterans has been assisting him through the process. Each month Ross takes a bus provided by the nonprofit group to the DAV office on Owens Street.

What he hasn’t been getting each month is a check.

There are 200,000 homeless veterans nationwide, according to the Veterans Affairs Department and homeless advocacy groups.

Ross doesn’t offer a sob story. He doesn’t want sympathy and said he doesn’t want to make Veterans Affairs look bad. He just wants his money.

He worked odd jobs — cabdriver, caddy, ice cream salesman — while traveling the country for most of his life. He’s spent most of his time in New Jersey and Florida. Sometimes he’d head back to his hometown, Santa Monica, Calif.

When he began suffering from clogged arteries and degenerating bones in his feet, he couldn’t work any longer.

He had little savings to fall back on. His car broke down near Laughlin in 1997. He stayed, also breaking down.

Some nights a friend lets him sleep in a van in a casino parking lot. He’s become pals with some of the local card dealers who slip him coupons for meals. Once or twice a week he’ll get a room that somebody was comped but isn’t using.

When he finally gets paid, he said, he plans to pay back the $1,200 he owes to a friend who gives him $50 a week, and about $600 to another pal who also has helped out.

He plans to get a small apartment in Laughlin, where the rents are low. If he feels healthy enough he’ll get a cheap car so he can get around.

His volunteer advocate and the Veterans Affairs Department could not confirm all of Ross’ claims, saying even with his permission and in his presence they could not legally discuss his benefits.

But when a Sun reporter and photographer met Ross at a Las Vegas Veterans Affairs office Friday, they were greeted by a VA representative.

“I apologize,” David Martinez, a public affairs specialist, told Ross. “It was a glitch. It shouldn’t have happened.”

Martinez said he made some calls Friday morning and straightened out Ross’ problem — doing in a few hours what hadn’t happened in more than a year.

He told Ross he should expect his check in about a week.

Ross will believe it when he sees it.

“I give it about a 50-50 chance,” he said.