FT. McPHERSON — “We have an operational plan.”
That’s Lt. Col. Gregory Raisor (U.S. Army ret.) talking, so you’d better salute, soldier.
Here’s the plan: Raisor marshals a cart filled with meat, frozen pizzas, paper products and navy beans. His wife, Dixie, fills a second cart with fruits and vegetables while maintaining the list of their grocery needs.
Meeting for a tactical review in the frozen-foods aisle, they may win this day’s battle, but Raisor and other military retirees in metro Atlanta — estimated to number enough to fill the 71,000-seat Georgia Dome — are losing the war.
The commissary, open in one form or another since the 19th century, is scheduled to close Sept. 30, marking the turnover of the base’s 488 historic acres to civilian authorities.
It was set to close two years ago. But a robust round of protests by vets forced a postponement until a replacement commissary could be built at Dobbins Air Reserve Base in Marietta. Budget cuts scuttled that plan, however, leaving many vets with feelings ranging from disappointment to resignation to good old-fashioned, bureaucracy-bashing military anger.
» FROM 2011: Military retirees feel betrayed with commissary closings
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“I feel betrayed by the government; it’s a slap in the face,” said retired Air Force Master Sgt. Melvin Cruver. “There are things they’ve promised us. It was part of the deal. We served our time. You hear talk of how we should honor our veterans — well, now do something for our veterans.”
What keeps them coming back? Commissary officials claim the savings approach 30 percent. Shoppers rave about the meat prices, and it seems most military retirees have freezers large enough to hold dismembered cows.
Sure, the aging warriors say, they could match commissary prices by dogging specials at Kroger or Sam’s, driving hither and yon to score sale items or snag Charmin’s 136-roll “Big Wipe.” But why should they have to?
“There seems to be a good demand here,” said Randy Lovely, a retired Army chief warrant officer 3. “I don’t know why they are closing it.”
Beyond the money, vets say the commissary is about connection, the camaraderie among those who have served their country. There’s a patriotic vibe in the aisles where creaky guys wearing Vietnam ball caps park shopping carts full of chicken wings to catch up on long-ago moments.
U.S. Sen. Johnny Isakson and U.S. Rep David Scott say they’ll fight to get a commissary built at Dobbins, but that looks like a long shot, at best.
The retirees grumble that Georgia’s pols just don’t carry the clout they used to, and that the public’s support has waned. Ted Merritt, a retired sergeant first class who served at Fort Mac, points out that construction crews are busy at the old base getting a Veteran’s Administration annex ready. It’s a natural, he said, the two facilities could work in tandem.
His wife, Everlean, heads to the commissary once a week and gets melancholy when driving through the old guard’s post past the empty buildings and weedy parking lots.
“They had homes here, a golf course, people walking around,” she said. “It used to be a joyous place. Now it’s just depressing every time you go there.”
Retired Army Lt. Col. Craig Allen lobbied hard to keep the commissary open two years ago, but he sees the writing on the wall.
“Everything else is closed there. It’s a ghost town,”he said. The commissary “is a dying ember right now, and it’ll go out on Sept. 30. And then, that’s it.”
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