'They become family:' Lunches at Clear Path for Veterans feed thousands (video)

Chittenango, N.Y. - Richard Weller took a bullet on a hill on the Korean Peninsula in 1952, which led to a double colostomy.

Lyndon Clark served one tour during the Vietnam War, during the Tet Offensive. He remembers when his part of the 1st Infantry Division fought and killed hundreds of North Vietnamese.

Decades later, Justin Muir was injured in Iraq, which led to PTSD.

Their military service spans generations. Yet their common experiences bring them together at Clear Path for Veterans, a healing place for veterans and their families.

"If you weren't in it, you don't talk about it," said Clark, whose family started Clark Concrete and poured some of the foundations for the U.S. Army camp that became Fort Drum. "People don't know what it's like. But here, it's totally different."

Each Wednesday, more than a hundred veterans and volunteers come together for a free lunch at Clear Path, about 13 miles east of Syracuse. The food is good, the veterans say. Clear Path, a non-profit organization that helps veterans, has an executive chef, a culinary school graduate and veteran himself who plans meals that include braised spicy chicken with fresh salsa, chorizo-and-potato casserole, green salads and fruit crisp.

But it's the camaraderie that provides the most comfort for veterans whose deployments range from Pearl Harbor to the Mekong Delta to Afghanistan.

"Some of the friends become more than friends," said Don Earl, a Navy veteran who served from 1976 to 1979, then spent a career working for General Electric. "They become family."

The first Canteen Wednesday was four years ago. Fourteen people came. Last year, the canteen fed 7,500. Clear Path estimates its staff and volunteers - many veterans themselves - have served 25,000 canteen lunches since early 2014.

All veterans, and their family or guests, are welcome at Clear Path, which is at 1223 Salt Springs Road, Chittenango. Regulars have their favorite tables, one filled with Marines, another with locals who all have a connection to the same hometown. A handful show up each Wednesday at 9 a.m. for coffee and talk, two hours before lunch begins.

"Food brings people together," says Karen Krull Robart, Clear Path's culinary assistant. "It helps them tell their stories."

Krull Robart started as a volunteer about a year ago; she wanted to honor her family and friends who've served in the military. Now she's a part of Clear Path's staff. It's her dry rub recipe that often marinates the meats.

She works under Executive Chef Chris Griffin, who plans the lunches and other culinary programs at Clear Path. He served as a Marine from 2001 to 2009. He spent most of 2004 in Fallujah. After the Marine Corps, Griffin earned a culinary degree from Paul Smith's College.

Each week, Griffin plans on about 175 guests for lunches that he estimates cost, on average, about $10 a plate. Many of the ingredients are from nearby farms, such as Greyrock in Cazenovia, Creekside Meadows in DeRuyter, and Elly's Acres in Jamesville. Some ingredients are donated; some, like lettuces, strawberries and herbs, are grown at Clear Path.

The prep usually starts on Tuesdays, with a handful of regular volunteers. Some weeks, businesses or groups sign up to come in and help with the lunches. Most weeks, a few veterans and volunteers do the work. They set up the dining room, finish prepping the foods, serve the meals.

The "dish dawgs" - the self-appointed dishwashing crew -- stay in the kitchen. Clark, who served in Vietnam, is part of that team. "There's good people here," he says. "It makes you feel good."

Glenn Brooks, a volunteer, has become Clear Path's pastry chef. Since 2012, he's come nearly every Wednesday to make homemade desserts - fruit crisps and cookies and 10 varieties of bread pudding - from the recipe books he's created over the years.

"The government says I have post-traumatic stress disorder, and that I'm unemployable," Brooks said, who served in the Army from 1964 to 1967, including time in Vietnam. That diagnosis, he says, took him from teaching eighth-grade math to culinary school. "It just sounded interesting to me."

He jokes that he went from killing people with weapons to inflicting them with sugary desserts. In a quieter moment, he reflects on wartime. Back then, "my normal was killing people," he says. "Man ain't supposed to do that."

Clear Path offers much more than Wednesdays lunches. The organization offers an array of programs and treatments for veterans, from yoga and acupuncture to service dog training to job placement advice. There are also culinary programs, such as cooking lessons and a "reset" night for couples, who, along with Griffin, make a meal together. Then the couple dine alone, a date night with privacy and a breath-taking view.

When Brooks first came in 2012, he found that, in turn, he could help Clear Path. "I said I can cook a little bit," he says, smiling, then releasing a laugh that's louder than the industrial dishwasher. He's cooked so much that he's earned his own chef's white jacket, embroidered with his name and title.

He admits to just one misstep in six years - a chocolate dessert that involved avocado, an attempt to make dessert a little healthier. It was not repeated.

"Shipmate!" Earl, the sailor who served in the 1970s, shouts to Sanford Sternlicht, a naval officer who spent most of the 1950s on active duty.

Sternlicht, 85, is a professor emeritus of literature at Syracuse University and a regular at the Wednesday lunches. "I come because of the camaraderie," he says. "I've made so many friends here."

It also makes him feel like he's back at sea. Clear Path sits on a ridge overlooking a vista that includes five counties and Oneida Lake. The picture windows and miles-long view give the illusion the building is floating over farmland. "It feels like a ship," Sternlicht said.

Weller, the infantry Marine who was shot during the Korean War, sits nearby. He eats on Wednesdays with friends, including Bill O'Kane. "Bill and I were in Korea at the same time," he said, though they didn't know it at the time. The two have since discovered they were on the same hill, within days of each other, before Weller was wounded.

Most who come say they've learned about Clear Path, and the lunches, through friends or referrals at the Syracuse VA Medical Center. That's how Robert Barber, and his daughter, Lisa, learned about the lunches from Muir just three months ago.

Muir, 34, and a part-time staffer at Clear Path, brings his dog, Bella, each Wednesday. Muir admits he came to Clear Path, at first, a little reluctantly. One of the organization's founders, Melissa Spicer, kept pushing him to join in. "She has a special way," he said.

So does Bella. He took the dog in after she'd been chained to a tree, her collar embedded in her fur. The two enrolled in Clear Path's dog training program. Now Bella accompanies Muir everywhere - including to the VA - where they met the Barbers and invited them to lunch.

Since then, the father and daughter come as often as they can.

"It is awesome here," said Lisa Barber. "The view, the people. Sitting here with all the vets. They speak their own language. Dad loves it here."