Wellspring helps give WA Army veteran ‘a light and a path going forward’

Kory Caze made it through Army duty in the Iraq War and continued on with his life with a good deal of success. He got a bachelor’s degree in business administration from the University of Washington, then embarked on a career in software sales.

“I was working like a dream job,” said the 35-year-old.

But a couple years ago, Caze’s life took a downward turn. His company downsized and he was laid off. Bills accumulated. Mental health issues from the war, long ignored, rose to the surface and made it hard to hold onto two subsequent jobs he landed.

“I thought you had to be the guy who had his legs blown off or whatever to be considered disabled or have PTSD,” said Caze, who served 10 months in Iraq and a total of six years in the Army and National Guard, earning at least a dozen medals and honors.

He came to realize the stress he endured in the war — surrounded by the constant pounding of mortar attacks that once destroyed a housing unit some 50 feet from his own — had profoundly affected him.

No longer able to “soldier up,” he said, “I finally crumbled.”

When Caze got in contact with Wellspring Family Services, one of 13 organizations receiving donations from The Seattle Times Fund for Those in Need campaign, he was unemployed and living in a subsidized apartment building for veterans.

Subsidized housing helped but he still faced financial peril. He was $1,600 behind on car payments. “That made me a candidate for repossession, which would have taken me 10 steps back,” he said, noting he needed a car to go to job interviews and Veteran Affairs appointments.

With Wellspring’s help, Caze held on to his car. He got a job managing a gas station and convenience store that put him over the income limit for subsidized housing, at which point Wellspring connected him with funding sources that this month allowed him to move into a new apartment.

“There’s a light and path going forward where I can be completely independent,” he said.

Now, said Caze, he is sharing his story so other veterans will know there are resources for them.

Wellspring was founded more than 130 years ago to support families in crisis. It focuses on those who are homeless or in danger of becoming so, with programs that help people become financially stable and find housing. It also runs a family store, giving out free diapers as well as gently-used clothes, toys and other items for children.

On a recent day, St. Vincent de Paul case manager Kiani Sanchez picked up three bags of items from the store for a family of six living in a car. The family, which became homeless when the dad lost his job, includes a toddler and a teenager who is autistic and nonverbal.

“It’s super useful,” Sanchez said of the store, especially with winter coming up and families needing warm clothes. The store also doles out items for holiday gifts.

People don’t have to go through a case manager to request items from the store, which makes it unique among similar local programs, according to Wellspring Interim Executive Director Julie Morris.

About a year ago, Wellspring started new financial-stability programs for veterans. Studies have shown a significant number of veterans suffer from PTSD, which increases their risk of homelessness. A national one-day count found more than 30,000 homeless veterans in 2024, and twice that number were likely homeless throughout the year.

Wellspring is facing its own financial challenges. When Washington state this year slashed early learning funding due to a budget shortfall, Wellspring abruptly lost nearly $600,000 for classes serving children 1 to 5 who had experienced homelessness. The organization tried to make up the difference through fundraising, but in October shuttered its early learning center, which it had operated for almost 40 years.

“It’s heartbreaking,” Morris said in an interview days before the closure.

That’s not all. For years, Wellspring had operated what’s known as an employee assistance program, which contracted with employers to provide support for workers who, for instance, need help managing their bills or finding a lawyer.

“A large piece of our organization was serving the EAP program,” Morris said. With more than 250 employers on board a couple of years ago, it brought in substantial revenue that fed Wellspring’s other programs.

But in recent years, the employee assistance program became less viable as employers turned to digital services. Wellspring decided the program no longer served its core mission and sold that part of its business last year.

The decision sharpened Wellspring’s focus on people facing homelessness and financial instability, said Morris, who came to the nonprofit in the spring with a background in leading organizations through times of change. At the same time, she said, “we have been in a phase of shrinking.

“We have gone from like a $30 million nonprofit to sub-$10 million.” Wellspring recently had upward of 100 employees, with many on the employee assistance side. Now, the organization has around 40.

Like its clients, Wellspring has to be resourceful. With government contracts and donations, it gives short-term subsidies that help clients get into housing and pay other bills. But it can’t always provide everything they need. So it offers what it can and reaches out to other organizations who can provide more support.

Caze’s case is a good example. To help him get caught up with car payments, Wellspring split the money owed with the King County Veterans Program. Wellspring also paid a phone bill.

People don’t often think of such things as related to housing stability, said Calli Clevinger, Wellspring’s housing program manager, “but it’s all connected.” It’s tough to find a job that will pay the rent without a car and a phone. And bills compete with each other. A paid car frees up money for housing.

When Caze later needed $1,800 for one month’s rent and a deposit to move into a new place, Wellspring arranged a cost-sharing deal between the county veterans program and Minority Veterans of America, which helps all veterans, no matter their race or ethnicity.

The Wellspring staffer working with Caze was forthright, he said. “We don’t have the funds right now, but I have an idea,” he remembered her telling him. “She went out … and did all the groundwork, came back and said, ‘Yes, we got you.'”

His new apartment in Federal Way is not fancy, but he says, “I love this place for what it is.” He appreciates the view of evergreens, which are part of a protected wetland right outside his windows.

“It’s quiet and it’s just great for my peace of mind,” he said, comparing it to the subsidized housing on Pacific Highway South where he used to live, accompanied by the constant roar of traffic.

“It’s great for my dog, too,” he added, referring to Ollie, the blue and red heeler named after Garrick Ollivander, a character in the Harry Potter series. A service dog, Ollie restlessly bounced around the small apartment when visitors recently showed up, but he’s chill when it’s just the two of them, Caze said.

Caze has added personal touches to his apartment: a banner emblazed with “Gryffindor,” one of the wizard houses in Harry Potter; wall hangings devoted to DC Comics; and in one corner a piano. Caze taught himself to play a year and a half ago and he finds it therapeutic, composing his own music and filling two notebooks with lyrics.

Wellspring has continued to stay in touch, checking in about once a month to see how things are going. Caze finds that reassuring.

He is as yet unsure whether his modest earnings and Veterans Affairs disability benefits will make ends meet once he starts paying rent on his own next month. Some of his income goes toward helping support a teenage child in another state.

Wellspring, he feels, is telling him: “Hey, we got your back any time you need us. If things go south again, or even if they don’t, we want to know about it.”