Brent Hass conquers abuse, prison time and addictions to serve other Veterans
Army Veteran Brent Hass has a story that makes the best Hollywood thriller seem like a snoozer.
It has it all: addictions, mental illness, prison time, physical and sexual abuse…and that barely scratches the surface. Soon to be 70, he’s overcome it all and now serves Veterans as a peer support specialist at the Rockford VA Clinic in Illinois.
Growing up, his house wasn’t one to model success. He never knew his father and his stepfather was an abusive alcoholic. He was beaten so severely at the age of three that he suffered a compound fractured skull. “Whenever something happened to my parents, they took it out on me, causing me to rebel even more,” Hass shared. “My way of coping was to run. I didn’t know where I was going but I just wanted to run.”
If there weren’t already enough reasons to keep him on the run from his home, things weren’t any better outside of it. When he was 11, his scout leader forced him into having sex.
By the age of 12, Hass began living on the streets of Chicago, sleeping in unlocked cars or abandoned buildings.
When it seemed like there was no other route to success, he was sent to Boys Town in Nebraska, a small school known for shaping at-risk children and giving them structure when they couldn’t find it anywhere else. Even that didn’t work. When he returned home, he was humiliated to find himself in the same 8th grade class as his brother, who was two years younger.
High school wasn’t any easier, so he wasted no time joining the Army at 17. Despite the obstacles, he was smart. Very smart.
“When I took the test, recruiters told me I could do anything I wanted. I went from being homeless to having so many security clearances for my job with the Army Security Agency that I thought for sure they had the wrong person.” They didn’t. They saw what he was capable of…if he could stay out of trouble.
If the goal was more structure and motivation in his life, he got it, but given that it was the early ‘70s, not the way he hoped. “At my first duty station I met dope,” he remembers. “Unfortunately, that wasn’t it. I saw guys shooting heroin and eventually gave in. That feeling the first time was exactly what I had been waiting for.”
Suddenly, Hass fit in. Everything in the past seemed distant. Gone were the guilt and pain from years of abuse. At least, that’s what he thought. But his troubles were just getting started.
In the early 1970s, he found himself driving a getaway car during a heist of $100,000 worth of jewelry, just one of the times he spent time in jail. By 1973 and in his early 20s, Hass had already experienced more than most will in a lifetime, trying his best to suppress it all while juggling a military career by day with driving a getaway car by night. The lack of computers and internet may have been the only thing from connecting the dots of his past.
“I had a ‘F*** you!’ mentality and even fought with an officer at one point,” Hass said. “Because the weather was so cold in Alaska, we were only supposed to serve one hour outside on watch and then be inside for four hours. He left me outside for five hours thinking it would be good for me, so I hit him.”
Having lost his security clearances at this point, his first sergeant, a former Green Beret, assured Hass that he had the answer for him: infantry. “He dropped me off and said, ‘you belong here, you’ll fit in great.’” He was right. He didn’t just fit in, he excelled, despite continued drug use. Hass was nominated as Solider of the Month and chosen to represent his infantry at a reunion in Chicago, where he hobnobbed with Veterans from World War I, World War II and the Korean War. He finally found a home.
The walls were finally closing in, though, and when the Army began cracking down on drug use, he managed to talk his general into granting him an honorable discharge, despite his struggles with crime and substance abuse.
Hass returned to Illinois and found a natural fit selling cars. Once again, he achieved great heights on the job while still struggling with his past. He walked into one dealership to interview for a sales position and walked out as sales manager. After hopping from Illinois to Oklahoma to Iowa, trailblazing the car industry while doing as many drugs as he could afford, he began missing work and lost his job.
Only one problem: he still had an addiction to feed.
“I started buying cars from junkyards before they were stamped as ‘junk.’ Then I’d visit dealerships that sold the same car and get them to trust me enough so I could test drive the car for the night. I’d swap out parts and then return the car to the dealership. I’d change my name slightly so they could do a credit check on me and not see my true background. I mean, I practically invented identity theft.”
He was also a prolific burglar, sometimes carrying entire safes from homes. “I was doing so many crimes that one agency designated an entire task force to stop me, thinking they were looking for an entire group. It was just me.”
To him, it wasn’t a choice, it was a necessity. He was spending a minimum of $700 a day on drugs alone when law enforcement finally nabbed him again. This time it was serious. With charges spanning two states, he was sentenced to 25 years. “I was convinced to use it as an opportunity. I worked out. I read all the classics starting with War and Peace. I read the bible cover to cover three times.
Hass used this stay in prison to rehabilitate his thought process and his life. His counselor even noticed the change and went to bat for him, making sure he was released after only four years. “I was thinking I’d serve at least 18 years. I realized that I was a smart guy and people liked me. I didn’t want to be that other guy. When I was using drugs, I learned how to fight it, but eventually I gave up. I was like, ‘Heroin, you win, I can’t do it anymore, I can’t fight you.’”
His counselor wasn’t the only person who noticed the change. The police officer spearheading the task force to arrest Hass not only dropped him off at prison but picked him up after being released. “He looked at me and said, ‘I can tell you’re different than when I dropped you off,’ and I was. I was ready for a change. I learned to stay clean.”
Unfortunately, with illegal drugs in his past, he turned to alcohol to fill his void, even selling most everything he owned to keep drinking: two motorcycles, a car, furniture, china. If he owned it, it was for sale. The more he sold, the more he could drink. When his former employee and fellow Veteran, Bob, found him hallucinating one day, there was only one place he thought to take him: the Madison VA Hospital.
Until then, Hass hadn’t considered VA resources or health care. “I got out of the hospital and asked a nurse about a program I read about. When I went there, the counselor said they’d help me on one condition - I had to be completely clean for 72 hours. I had to take a test and prove I was clean. I told her I’d do anything they tell me because I wanted to change my life so bad, I was sick. I didn’t know I was an addict until I came here.”
That day, August 28, 2014, now has a new meaning. A new birthday of sorts. He’s been clean ever since.
Hass has been married and divorced four times. He has four children that he attempted to reconcile with, only one of which took him up on the offer. “I was a terrible father. I reached out to all four of them and explained that I’m not the same person I used to be if they were interested in getting a conversation going, but I won’t bug you. I wasn’t going to try and run back into their life as if nothing happened. The only one who took me up on it was my youngest. I am amazed at our relationship. I’m so thankful for that.”
Through it all, Hass uses his experiences to continue helping others, even starting a family counseling process to help them understand what someone is experiencing and how to be supportive. “I felt guilty but realized it was PTSD from my childhood. Once I realized it wasn’t my fault – it was a huge revelation because I was beating myself up. Others make you think it’s your fault – that you can quit whenever you want, but it’s a disease and I didn’t know how to stop. If it can work for me, it can work for anybody. The motivation has to be there. It’s not your fault. You can’t do it by yourself, if you could, you would have done it long ago.
“Even though I’ve been clean for nine years, I will always be an addict and alcoholic. I’m always recovering, but I’m in a position where I can help my peers, whether they are Veterans or not. I can’t go back and change a damn thing. I can only make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
Cue the music for the Hollywood ending, but don’t run the credits yet. Brent Hass has a new role he’s playing, but this time Veterans are benefiting from it.
September marks National Recovery Month. Treatment can save a life and can help people with substance use disorders recover from addiction’s powerful effects on their brain and behavior. Treatment and recovery make it possible for individuals, families and communities to heal and thrive. For assistance, dial 988 and then press 1.
To learn more about peer support programs and events, contact our Local Recovery Coordinator, Rhea Vacha, at 608-332-1628. For more information about the Madison VA Hospital, visit www.madison.va.gov, www.facebook.com/MadisonVAHospital and subscribe to our newsletters.