William H. McMichael

USA TODAY

AVONDALE, Pa. — The first letter addressed to the late David Perry arrived five weeks after he died at home June 5.

Sent from the Department of Veterans Affairs, the envelope was to be opened "by addressee only." Perry's wife Helena opened it anyway.

"You remain eligible to receive (VA) health benefits," it read. A handwritten yellow sticky note added, "Please provide copy of death certificate."

Helena thought she'd notified VA. Regardless, she said, "It's kind of hard for him to open it when he's not here — and even harder for him to send the death certificate."

Several days ago, a VA billing statement addressed to David Perry arrived. Helena opened that one too. Her late husband, it seemed, owes the government 59 cents.

"So if it's not paid by October the 11th, I'm going to have additional — or he will have additional charges on his 59 cents," she said. "So I did call and talk to them, and informed them again that he was dead, and I just didn't think he would be able to pay it."

She pointed to the envelope and its pre-printed postage. "And how ridiculous to pay 48 cents to send it?"

On Sept. 4, VA sent David Perry another reminder: to get a flu shot.

"I thought it was funny," said the good-natured Helena, 81. "Hilarious. And anyone I've talked to found it the same way."

What she didn't appreciate were letters from the Philadelphia VA disability benefits office and getting chastised for not canceling an appointment to file a claim for hearing loss he suffered during the war. She'd done so, something she said was confirmed by a customer service representative in Louisville who answered when she called the Philadelphia benefits office.

"They know that I did, and I have verification that I did," she said.

"The people at the hospital that we've talked to have been extremely nice," Helena said. "The ladies at the desk are extremely nice. But the letters from the VA itself are extremely confusing. ... It seems like the offices just don't seem to know what's happening."

VA officials in Washington did not respond to a request for comment on why the agency continued sending correspondence to David Perry after his death, and how frequently such erroneous mailings take place.

"I read so much about the Veterans Administration being fouled up," she said, referring to the ongoing scheduling scandal that has launched investigations at 93 VA medical centers and clinics. "And ... with people like that running it, I can see why it's fouled up."

Perry grew up in Wilmington. He was big for his age and hung out with boys several years older. Helena, five years younger, had her eye on him. "He was a real teddy bear," she said. Perry was 23, she was 17 when they began their 62 years of marriage in 1952. By then, he'd already served as a Navy frogman during World War II and had added another short hitch from 1950-51.

Perry spent his post-service years working as a barber and beautician, a private detective and credit manager. Helena spent 39 years with DuPont — in printing and computers. She remembers the day they managed to link two megabytes of data together. "Boy, were we cookin'!" she said. She was a part-time private detective as well — "first in Delaware," she claims.

Perry, 86, was not a major consumer of VA care. He suffered from multiple maladies, including diabetes and coronary artery disease, but all of the care for those issues was delivered at civilian hospitals and clinics and paid for by Medicare and private insurance.

In August 2012, David lost his balance and fell coming up the back steps at home, his imbalance the result of a urinary tract infection.

In February 2013, Perry went to the VA to see whether the agency would pay for a ramp leading to his front porch, and for a hearing aid. The couple ended up paying for a ramp without any assistance, but VA tested his hearing and had him fitted for hearing aids.

At a March hearing checkup, the nurse practitioner suggested that he might be eligible for disability compensation for his hearing loss. He made appointments to do so, but his health worsened; on both occasions, he was in a hospital, once in intensive care, Helena said.

Even over that short span, Helena has accumulated a small stack of letters from the Veterans Benefits Administration. Together with the Health Administration letters, the cumulative effect is bewildering, she said.

"I guess it's like you're between a rock and a hard place — when you just don't know who to call or what to call," Helena said. "But all the letters that I get, I try to read them and answer them the best I can."

She's probably not going to pay the 59 cents. After she got the bill, she called the toll-free number on the bill and reached a customer service rep named Cecil.

"I told him about this big bill that I had, and being as my husband was dead, I just didn't understand why we had it," she said. He asked how much and she said, "It's 59 cents. And I thought Cecil was going to crack up.

"He couldn't say 'Don't pay it,' " she said. "I said, 'I'm not gonna pay it.' And he said, 'I think we're on the same page.' "

McMichael also reports for The (Wilmington, Del.) News Journal.