NACVSO Member Monthly Spotlight - Feb

NACVSO Monthly Spotlight: “Gerald’s Law” Champion and Recently Appointed Executive Board Member Denise Formolo

Name: Denise Formolo

County/State: Dickenson County, MI

Location: Kingsford, MI

How long? 7 years

How did you become a Veteran Service Officer and, eventually, NACVSO executive board?

I first became aware of the VSO role while working across the hall from one. After a serious accident forced me out of my previous job, I was eager to get back to work when a VSO position became vacant. I applied and the rest is history. Only eight days later, I attended my first NACVSO conference and completed accreditation. That experience was a turning point—NACVSO provided me with the knowledge, resources, and support I needed to be effective. Without it, I’m not sure I would have lasted in this field.

My work on Gerald’s Law eventually lead me to connecting with NACVSOs Legislative Director Michael McLaughlin, who is an invaluable leader and mentor to so many of our members. That experience deepened my appreciation for legislative advocacy, and I saw firsthand the impact this organization has. I had run for office twice in the past, but when a vacancy opened on the Executive Board and I was asked if I would be interested, my reply was an enthusiastic “Absolutely!”

What do you enjoy most about being a veteran service officer?

There is nothing about this job that I don’t enjoy. During our time as VSOs, we have a sacred opportunity to change the lives of thousands of vets for the better. Even when I am gone, people I have been blessed enough to advocate for will continue to receive benefits-- but doesn’t stop there. If a VSO is so motivated, they can change the entire landscape.

Tell me about Geralds Law and how that law came to pass?

Gerald was a veteran on hospice care in a VA facility due to a non-service-connected disability. Like so many others in his position, he wanted nothing more than to spend his final days at home, surrounded by his family. Eventually, he was able to return home, but he passed away just nine days later. His family, grieving their loss, soon received another devastating blow—a denial of his burial benefits.

When they came to me, I was just as shocked as they were. Gerald had been transferred home under hospice care, and according to VA policy, that single decision disqualified him from burial benefits. It didn’t make sense. I remember telling his family, This isn’t right, and I’m going to do something about it.

I started digging into the regulations, and what I found was frustrating but clear—under existing law, hospice care at home was not considered part of the VA’s burial benefit eligibility. There was nothing malicious about the denial from VA; they were simply following the law as it was written. But that didn’t mean the law was fair.

Most veterans, when given the choice, want to spend their final days at home rather than in a facility. It’s a matter of dignity, comfort, and family. And beyond that, my research showed that allowing veterans to pass away at home could result in cost savings for the VA—less time in an inpatient facility meant reduced expenses for end-of-life care. I just knew there was a way to make this right.

I contacted my congressman, reached out to officials in Washington, and made calls across the country to anyone who would listen. I worked to build support, securing endorsements from national veteran service organizations. But despite gaining traction, I wasn’t getting as far as I wanted. It was frustrating—this was such a common-sense change, yet I kept hitting roadblocks.

Then, it became personal. My father-in-law became ill, and like Gerald, he was in inpatient hospice care. He wanted to go home, but he was afraid—afraid that if he did, he would lose his burial benefits. That moment solidified my determination. No veteran should have to make a choice like that.

I sought advice from Michael McLaughlin, who had been an incredible mentor in legislative advocacy, and kept pushing forward. Finally, at the last minute of the previous administration, Gerald’s Law was pulled into the Elizabeth Dole Act and passed. It was a victory not just for Gerald’s family, but for every veteran and their loved ones.

The success of Gerald’s Law was a true boots-on-the-ground effort—countless letters, phone calls, and congressional meetings. It wasn’t easy, but it was worth it. And in some ways, I’m glad I didn’t fully understand the system before I started. If I had, I might have second-guessed myself or been discouraged by how difficult the process would be. But at the end of the day, I wasn’t looking at bureaucratic red tape—I was looking at a grieving family, at a veteran’s final wishes, and I knew it had to change.

Now, no veteran will be penalized for choosing to die at home, where they belong. And that, to me, is what advocacy is all about.

Anything else you would like to add or let others know about CVSO’s?

There’s not enough understanding around how much CVSOs actually do. Other service organizations file claims, CVSOs take a more proactive individual role—our sole purpose is to help veterans beyond just claims. We have to understand everything about veterans’ needs at the community, state, and federal levels. It’s a profession that’s vastly undervalued because people don’t always realize the depth of knowledge required to be effective.

A CVSO’s day can start with filing a few claims and end with securing housing and food for a veteran’s family. We advocate, problem-solve, and make things happen, often as the only resource with such a broad scope of expertise.

Working with an organization like NACVSO doesn’t just teach you the technical skills needed to be good at your job—it helps you understand the bigger picture and develop an effective network. If you’re paying attention, you learn how to drive meaningful change, not just for individual veterans, but across entire systems.