Found Vagrant Living in Chicken Coop : Father of Three Becomes Indigent’s Guardian . . . and Guardian Angel

When Jerry Vasseur found Matt LoBuono in his chicken coop, he pointed a pistol at LoBuono and called the police. At first, he wanted the vagrant arrested.

But something about LoBuono told Vasseur this was a man who needed help, not punishment, whose only crime was trying to survive.

Vasseur sent the police away and took charge of the 25-year-old vagrant. He filled out complicated forms to get financial aid for LoBuono. He took him to psychiatrists to treat his mental illness.

When Vasseur realized LoBuono could not fend for himself in the maze of social agencies, the 49-year-old father of three children, all in their 20s, became LoBuono’s legal guardian.

Seen as Resource

“Jerry Vasseur is a unique individual,” said Brad Hughes, a spokesman for the state Cabinet for Human Resources. “There is a resource in him that should be in every community.”

Vasseur is not easily flattered, especially when he remembers the frustration of trying to get state help for LoBuono, a quiet man who looks solemnly at the floor when his story is told.

Vasseur found LoBuono living in an abandoned chicken coop on his property in August, 1985, when he noticed a fresh path through the grass. Vasseur confronted LoBuono after going to his excavating business across the road and fetching his pistol.

LoBuono had eaten nothing for a week but the pears off a nearby tree. He was filthy, sick and scared.

Frustration Inevitable

“He was in bad shape,” Vasseur said. “We cleaned him up and got him some clothes, and we thought the good old U.S. government would come down the road waving a flag to help him.”

That notion, Hughes said, was Vasseur’s first mistake.

“Anytime you’re having to deal with a bureaucracy and you don’t know who to call or what to call, you’re going to get frustrated,” he said.

Vasseur tried different social agencies, “but Matt fit into a situation where he didn’t qualify for any part of it,” he said. “The sheriff advised us to have him arrested and thrown in jail and committed.”

But LoBuono had done nothing wrong, Vasseur said.

Family Tracked Down

“If he had been a criminal, he’d have food, shelter, medical attention,” Vasseur said. “But because he wasn’t, they said, ‘He’s your problem.’ ”

Vasseur tracked down LoBuono’s family.

“I found his parents,” Vasseur said. “But his dad told me they didn’t want anything to do with him.”

Through letters from LoBuono’s siblings, Vasseur learned his charge was born and reared in Reidland, a small rural community in western Kentucky near the Illinois border.

After high school, LoBuono joined the Navy. In a little more than a month, however, his mental impairment became obvious and he received a medical discharge.

Lived in Chicken Coop

For the next few years, no one is sure where LoBuono went, not even LoBuono. Now that he takes medication, LoBuono can recall wandering across the country.

“I was just looking for friends,” he said.

Unsuccessful, penniless and confused, LoBuono somehow hitchhiked to Reidland and ended up in Vasseur’s chicken coop.

Vasseur’s campaign to help LoBuono resulted in a series of articles and editorials in the Paducah Sun, which in turn generated readers’ letters and donations.

Gary Ford, a social worker for the Social Services Department, visited LoBuono. He made several referrals and set up appointments with the regional mental health agency.

Referrals Aplenty

Help was available, but Vasseur said he and his secretary, Barbara Shaw, often could not understand the forms. When they called one agency, they were referred to another.

Vasseur took off days from work at his business to accompany LoBuono to social agencies. He listened in disbelief as social workers asked to see LoBuono’s earnings statements, utility and rent receipts, Vasseur said.

“Barbara and I have sat in this office and cried out of frustration. I’ve never seen anything as complicated as this to get benefits,” he said. “How do they expect a man like that to get anything at all when me and Barbara had a hard time filling those forms out?”

Outrage ‘Justifiable’

Hughes responded to a letter Vasseur wrote, admitting that “the system did not work as it should have for Mr. LoBuono.”

“I have no doubt that you did everything for Mr. LoBuono, and very probably more as well . . . and your outrage is more than justifiable,” Hughes wrote to Vasseur.

But Hughes also defended state workers.

“If you don’t believe state employees get frustrated when they can’t get help for someone, just try multiplying your efforts for one man by the thousands that our people work with,” he wrote.

Today, LoBuono receives $284 a month in Social Security benefits. He lives in a trailer on Vasseur’s property. Five days a week, he attends a mental health program at a nearby hospital.

He’s Found His Niche

“We make ceramics, and take bus trips and do things like go bowling,” LoBuono said.

Other days, he mows the lawn or follows the St. Louis Cardinals on TV or the radio. He cooks and cleans for himself.

Vasseur is pleased LoBuono has found his niche. In the last few months, Vasseur said he has also learned to “sympathize with the plight of the government.”

But he is aware not every Matt LoBuono can find a Jerry Vasseur.

“Matt’s people are a people who can’t put the pressure on,” Vasseur said. “They don’t have the contacts; they don’t have the know-how.”

Hughes agreed--but only to an extent.

Not Enough Resources

“What it comes down to--and I don’t think this is a cruel statement--is that you can only help someone to the extent to which they are willing to be helped or desire to have that help.

“Matt LoBuono got help only because Jerry Vasseur was willing to see him through, and I think Mr. Vasseur would admit this,” Hughes said.

For every LoBuono, there are dozens of people who receive some help, then disappear, Hughes said. The state does not have the resources to search for those people to make sure they are no longer in need.

Hughes said Vasseur’s actions should set an example.

“If you saw a house on fire, your natural instinct is to get to the phone,” Hughes said.

“It’s not quite black-and-white for someone in need, but if you saw someone in a chicken coop or under a train trestle and you knew social services were available, why couldn’t you call?”