Built 2 Last Campaign to house a decorated Marine

Hi, my name is Fitzjohn McCann. I was born a fighter and survivor. We were all born this way.

I am a decorated Marine veteran trying to raise money because I am homeless and have been scammed by a fraudulent charity called Stand Down, an initiative of Faith Hope Love Charity Inc, 3175 S Congress Ave #310 Palm Springs, FL 33461. The Veterans Administration hospital social workers connected me to this charity in the hope of putting a roof over my and my beloved chihuahua Piper's head four months ago. I have submitted every requested document, including paycheck stubs, the apartment lease acceptance letter and the signed lease. The "caseworkers" involved have repeatedly made me jump through hoops, changed documentation requests and always every Friday have a new document request every Friday. Every time I have tried to meet the caseworker, there is an excuse as to why she " was waiting for me at my place of work but just missed me. No one at my work has ever seen her or had anyone ask for me fitting her description and the wardrobe she was wearing. She claims that she just missed me and will reconvene on the following Monday and this has gone on for three months. The VA hospital social workers tell me they met her when she came to the VA hospital. Still, when I went to her office and the site of supposed apartment buildings called Village of Valor, where veterans they have helped live, there was no apartment complex, just an office building hosting several makeshift and shady virtual offices. I have contacted the Florida Governor's office and police, as well as CBS news here in West Palm Beach. Now I need the community to take action and support me in my efforts not to be homeless.

The reason I became a Marine:

I am the baby of a family of seven, six boys and one girl. My father was a naval commander, and I always felt a sense of honor and patriotism and have been fortunate to have been born in America. As an infant of 18 months, I miraculously survived a small airplane crash with my father and 3 other siblings. Undaunted, all family members involved went on to become pilots, either commercial or private, but in our family, we were all forged and determined to believe that life was a great adventure and honor, commitment and the resolve to finish anything we started was the greatest homage to the relentless and persistent spirit of humanity.

When I was four, my oldest brother's best friend was an 18-year-old young man named Dave Beers, who was ever present in our house and often doted on me, and I considered him to be one of my brothers. His father bullied him and called him a pussy and he often, like a lot of teens, took refuge in our loving home. One day he announced to our family that he would join the Marines to prove to his father that he was not a coward. It was 1967, and the Vietnam war was raging overseas. Dave promised my family that he would come to visit us after Marine Corps boot camp before he was deployed to Vietnam, and he also told me that he would bring me a souvenir from the Marines that would be his lucky charm to keep him safe. Well, Dave stopped in Washington DC for leave and liberty before visiting us, and while he was celebrating his graduation from boot camp, he was mugged, stabbed and murdered for the money he had earned in the three months at Parris Island Marine Corps training. We had a family meeting where my parents told me the sad news about Dave, and I was stunned yet inspired by Daves's story. At the tender age of four, I announced to my family that when I grew up, I would join the Marines for Dave Beers! I repeated that commitment all through the years, and when I was 17 and a senior in high school, I marched down to the local Marine Corps recruiting office to enlist. The Marine recruiters started to tell me their selling points, to which I stopped them and said, “ I’ve been a Marine my whole life, and now that I’m of an eligible age, I just came here to let you know. My older brother Andrew and I were inseparable, so he followed me into enlisting on the “buddy” program and on August 14, 1981, we got on the Greyhound bus to the infamous Parris Island for the adventure of a lifetime and the rest is history!