I Met a U.S. Marine Veteran Named Lemar Stokes.
If you’ve read my other blogs, you know that when I am not slinging mushrooms, I work full-time running a PR company, which I have done for the last 20 years. (In fact, my PR company turns 20 years old today as I write this blog.)
My PR work has been the catalyst for incredible experiences and moments that I wouldn’t believe happened if I hadn’t physically been there. I gave Janet Jackson a lap dance…at the Royal Prince of Brunei’s birthday party at Stapleford Park, England (where I also twerked on the Queen of Brunei…and I am pretty sure she liked it). I spent a week in Cartagena, Colombia, with a Spice Girl, and we…partied (that is all I will say, but connect the damn dots). I sneaked into the White House Correspondents’ Dinner during the Obama era (funny enough, only a few weeks after some other White House crashers were caught and security was “heightened”) and made a beeline for Betty White, who was sitting next to Morgan Freeman. The list goes on and on and on and on.
On top of my oddly reckless PR girlie adventures, I have also had the privilege of meeting people with stories so profound that I am moved to leverage my honed skills to build them a worthy platform.
A few months ago, I was asked by my colleagues to cover a Sunday shoot. As the sole childless C-level executive at my PR company, it is not uncommon for me to be tapped to attend level-one sensitive client activations during the weekend. Whatever annoyance I have around being asked to give up my Sunday to work is very quickly usurped by the relief that my company is busy and, therefore, my bills are paid. I really mean that. It’s an active recognition of how fortunate I am to have shit to do that pays me.
While I can’t name the client or give too many details, I met a U.S. Marine veteran named Lemar Stokes. He was a “guest” on a show that was filming that day and was asked to speak about how therapy has helped him (or not) manage his PTSD from serving in Iraq in the early 2000s.
This was candidly the first time during that four-hour shoot that I perked up to listen with extra intent. As someone who has (relatively) mild PTSD from childhood and went on a DMT journey to help treat it, plus, of course, microdosed on mushrooms with so much success that I started my own brand…I wanted to pay close attention to Lemar.
I listened, and I sobbed. Not out of pity, to be clear. I cried because nobody should live in pain for the majority of their life, especially if they served our country. This sounds embarrassingly elementary, but some things are really that simple.
My PR job has brought me into rooms and special projects connected to U.S. veterans. Got Your Six Foundation (now called the Bob Woodruff Foundation) comes to mind, and, of course, the E! News segment I produced with Trace Adkins at the Academy of Country Music Awards in 2009 that benefited the Wounded Warrior Project. (I was producing charity segments for E! News at the time, hosted by my then-client Michael Yo. This particular segment stood out because E! News passed on my pitch, citing that Trace wasn’t mainstream enough, and I remember responding with an essay about how this segment idea was bigger than Trace and bigger than E! News, and how they had an obligation to use their platform for the men and women who serve our country, not just “tabloid slop.” When I get irritated, I sometimes turn into the Hulk and write emails meant to change outcomes. This one worked. E! News changed its mind, and it was an incredibly impactful mainstream TV segment for the Wounded Warrior Project.)
Listening to Lemar started to reactivate the part of me that has shamefully been dormant when it comes to veterans and veteran issues. And how is this so? How have I let this group of people fall off my radar? My dad was a doctor in the Air Force during Vietnam, but he never really talked about it. Only that he missed Woodstock because he was on call.
Lemar talked about his experience in Iraq, his very unwelcome return to the United States, and his ongoing struggles to assimilate (with little to no help from society). What I didn’t know until my candid conversation with Lemar months later, which we recorded and is part of this blog, is that Lemar, who is based in Texas, hadn’t left his house in years when he decided to accept the invitation to travel to LA and tell his story. He wants people to know what he has been through and what his peers are going through. And I want to help him.
After the shoot that day in LA, I approached Lemar. I shouldn’t have, to be honest. I was there in a different PR capacity, and I was crossing a line by doing this, but I couldn’t stop myself. He had just spent a significant amount of time talking about how therapy and prescription medicines had not helped him manage his PTSD.
I asked him, “Have you tried mushrooms?”
He smiled, but his eyes were very glazed. He said, “Yes, I have before. They helped a little in the beginning, but not really anymore.”
Again, I did something that I shouldn’t have. I invited him to the trunk of my car in the parking lot. He followed me. I told him that I am the co-founder of BESTIES and that we make microdosing mushroom products that have personally helped me. Huge caveat: My problems have never felt as insignificant as they did following Lemar’s recounting of his life. Again, this is not said with any degree of pity. This is just what it is. I will never truly know or experience the depths of his pain. I put a few pouches of BESTIES in his hand. “I make no promises, but if they help you at all, please let me know.”
BESTIES had soft-launched a few months earlier at a prominent porn industry consumer show in Las Vegas (don’t ask), and I remember we handed samples to veterans there, all of whom returned for more after reporting that our products helped them feel unusually comfortable in a large and loud Las Vegas convention center.
Hours after sharing BESTIES with Lemar for the first time, I received an ecstatic email from him about his experience. I cannot begin to articulate how good it feels to know that something my company made was helpful to him.
Lemar and I have stayed in touch. I asked him earlier this month if he would have a conversation with me to share his story. Below is a very candid conversation I had with Lemar, recorded on Monday, August 17, via Google Meet.
I am incredibly grateful to Lemar for being so open with me, for making the time to have this conversation, and for his support of what I am trying to do with BESTIES. I am doing my best to balance my grand ideas around how Lemar and I are going to work together to raise more awareness around the intersection of veterans and plant medicine with the reality that he lives day to day, moment to moment, in many ways, to best navigate his PTSD. My deepest hope is that this is the beginning of something meaningful between Lemar and me, and that our journey to share veterans’ stories and provide them with easier access to mushroom products for a better quality of life is a successful one.
If you are interested in supporting Lemar, please consider donating to his GoFundMe. He is currently raising money to buy a car to help him get to and from the VA in Dallas, Texas. Also, 10% of all BESTIES sales using code LEMAR20 at checkout will go directly to Lemar.
Xo,
Tess (Co-Founder, BESTIES)
