Winning Proposals for Veteran-Owned Businesses

I just submitted my very first proposal to the State of Florida—and I have to admit, I didn’t think I stood a chance.

This wasn’t some minor RFP. Florida is recompeting its Management Consulting Services Consolidated Schedule, and I chose to compete in Service Category 4: Executive Leadership Development and Customized Training—one of nine powerful categories, all dominated by big-name firms with deep pockets and armies of employees.

But here I am. A veteran, a founder, a team of one, pushing through multiple websites, platforms, registrations, certifications, documents, file formats, and yes—those relentless character count limits—just to be considered viable. To even get a seat at the table.

And I made it.

It was not easy. The process was time-consuming, mentally exhausting, and filled with moments of doubt. But it was also one of the best learning experiences I’ve had as a business owner.

And here’s what I want other small businesses—especially my fellow Veteran-Owned Small Businesses (VOSBs) and Service-Disabled Veteran-Owned Small Businesses (SDVOSBs)—to know:

If you don’t try, you can’t win.

The State of Florida spent over $82 million on management consulting services last year alone. That’s not just a number—it’s an opportunity. One that we, as small, capable, values-driven businesses, can pursue. If you have the right NAICS codes, the right mindset, and the willingness to navigate the process, there’s a real path forward.

Yes, the back-office requirements are real. But compared to the federal government, the state-level procurement process is far more accessible. You don’t need a team of ten compliance officers. You just need to be intentional, organized, and committed to understanding the rules of the game.

I don’t know if I’ll win this one. But I do know this:

  • I now understand how the process works.
  • I can replicate and refine my submission.
  • I’ve proven to myself—and maybe to others—that I belong at the table.
  • And I’m ready to bring in some of the most mission-driven leaders I know to serve with excellence.

To anyone else out there feeling like a one-person army going up against giants: keep going.

The journey matters. The learning is real. And your impact—when your moment comes—will be undeniable.

Thinking About Filing for VA Disability? Read This First.

If you’re reading this, someone probably told you, “You should file a VA claim.” Maybe they’ve been saying it for years. Maybe it’s the first time you’re thinking about it seriously. Either way, I’ve been where you are—wondering if it’s worth the time, energy, and vulnerability.

Let me tell you something I wish someone had told me sooner: it’s okay to ask for help. And it’s okay to want clarity before you step into the process. So let me walk you through the VA disability claims journey—step by step—with free resources I personally trust, and some rough timeframes to expect.


🛠️ Step 1: Determine If You Qualify

Timeframe: Immediate – 1 week

You need a current diagnosis, evidence that the condition was caused or worsened during military service, and a “nexus” connecting the two.

Free Resources:

If you’re not sure, connect with a Veterans Service Officer (VSO). They work for you, not the government.


📄 Step 2: File Your Initial Claim (Intent to File First)

Timeframe: 1 hour to prepare + VA average: 125–150 days

Start by submitting an Intent to File. That locks in your effective date while you gather evidence. Then you file the full claim.

Free Resources:


🔍 Step 3: Evidence Gathering & Adjudication

Timeframe: 4 to 5 months average (can vary)

The VA reviews medical evidence, service treatment records, and may schedule a C&P exam (Compensation & Pension).

Free Resources:


🧾 Step 4: Decision & Rating Letter

Timeframe: Included in the 125–150 day total (Step 2)

The VA issues a decision: denied, granted, or partial. You’ll get a rating decision letter explaining why.

Free Resources:


🔁 Step 5: Appeal or Supplemental Claim (if denied or underrated)

Timeframe: Varies greatly – 4 to 18 months depending on option

You can:

  • Request a Higher-Level Review (125–150 days)
  • Submit a Supplemental Claim with new evidence (125–150 days)
  • Appeal directly to the Board of Veterans Appeals (average: 12–18 months)

Free Resources:


🔒 Step 6: Sustainment – Updates, Increases, Secondary Claims

Timeframe: Ongoing (review every 3–5 years or as conditions worsen)

Disabilities change over time. You can request increases, add secondary conditions (like depression caused by chronic pain), or file for TDIU if you can’t work.

Free Resources:


🎯 Final Thoughts

Starting a VA claim is a personal decision—one that can stir up emotion, old memories, and self-doubt. But you don’t have to do it alone. Reach out to a VSO, or me and get educated, and move at your own pace. There are people—like me—who once hesitated too. And we’re all better for finally taking that step.

You’ve served. You’ve earned this. And your well-being matters.


Navigating the Turbulent U.S. Federal Contracting Landscape

Introduction

Over the past several months, the U.S. federal contracting landscape has experienced significant turbulence. The implementation of hiring freezes, early retirements, and spending cuts has led to a slowdown in federal spending, leaving many agencies and contractors in a state of uncertainty. Drawing from firsthand insights from leaders within the IRS, USDA, DoD, VA, and other agencies, this post aims to shed light on the current challenges and potential future of federal contracting.​

The Immediate Impact: A Contracting Slowdown

The extension of the federal hiring freeze through July 15, 2025, has had a profound effect on agency operations. Agencies are prohibited from filling vacant positions or creating new ones, with limited exceptions for roles related to national security and public safety . This has resulted in delayed contract awards, project cancellations, and a general hesitancy to initiate new solicitations.​

For instance, the Department of Veterans Affairs is reviewing nearly $2 billion in contracts, with some terminations already announced . Similarly, the USDA has frozen funding for numerous grant programs, affecting projects that support farmers, small businesses, and food initiatives .​

The Domino Effect on Contractors

The ripple effects of these federal actions are being felt across the contracting community. Many professional services contracts are being terminated, and the average sales cycle for federal contracts—often spanning three years—is being disrupted. Companies that have invested significant resources into shaping and pursuing these contracts now face the risk of sunk costs without the prospect of recouping their investments.​

Moreover, the uncertainty surrounding the resumption of normal contracting activities has made strategic planning challenging. With leadership across various agencies unaware of when and how spending will restart, contractors are left in a precarious position, balancing the need to maintain readiness with the financial strain of prolonged inactivity.​

A Glimmer of Hope: Long-Term Prospects

Despite the current challenges, there are reasons for cautious optimism. Historically, federal contracting has demonstrated resilience, rebounding after periods of austerity. The U.S. government remains the largest customer in the world, and its need for goods and services is enduring. Once the current constraints are lifted, there is potential for a surge in contracting activity to address backlogs and new priorities.​​

Note: For the most current information on federal contract opportunities and awards, visit SAM.gov.

Lou Schwartz Joins DAV Patriot Boot Camp 2025

We are thrilled to announce that Lou Schwartz, founder and president of LOUJSWZ Inc., has been officially accepted into the DAV Patriot Boot Camp Spring 2025, a prestigious program dedicated to empowering military veterans, service members, and their families in entrepreneurship.

Hosted at the Disabled American Veterans (DAV) National Headquarters in Erlanger, Kentucky, this three-day immersive experience will bring together an elite group of veteran and spouse entrepreneurs from across the country for education, mentoring, and networking from May 14-16, 2025.

This incredible opportunity aligns perfectly with the mission and vision of LOUJSWZ Inc.:

  • Mission: To improve processes and lives for small businesses, veterans, and individuals, making their journey easier and more fulfilling.
  • Vision: To empower others through professional services, project coordination, consulting, and federal certifications, helping them navigate complex systems and succeed in their ventures.

Through this program, Lou will not only enhance his own entrepreneurial skills but also expand the reach of LOUJSWZ Inc.’s commitment to veteran advocacy, small business development, and servant leadership. The knowledge and connections gained will directly benefit the veterans, small business owners, and clients we serve, ensuring that LOUJSWZ Inc. continues to make life better and easier for those striving to achieve their goals.

Stay tuned as Lou returns with insights from this experience. He will bring back relationships and resources to further enrich the support we provide.

For more about our services and ongoing initiatives, visit loujswz.com or connect with us on LinkedIn

Together, we rise. Together, we serve.

Life Changes in an Instant: A Caregiver’s Journey

We’ve all heard the phrase: “In the blink of an eye, everything can change.” It’s easy to brush off—it’s a quote we’ve heard in books, seen in movies, or used when something minor goes sideways. I’ve heard it a million times. But living it—really living it—is different.

As a two-time caregiver, I’ve come to truly understand the depth of that phrase. This second time around has given me what we used to call in the military situational awareness. That’s the moment when you stop reacting emotionally and begin assessing reality: the inputs, the outputs, and what you can do—even if it’s just mitigating the damage.

A few months ago, my wife hadn’t walked in six months. Chemo had ravaged her body. She was pale, fragile, eyes sunken. I’d seen that look before in others, but this was my wife.

Then one morning, I walked into our little home gym and found her wheelchair stuck in the doorway. I looked across the room and there she was, standing—cleaning out a closet.

“How did you get over there?” I asked, stunned.

“I walked,” she said.

Using the treadmill and bench to balance herself, she’d made her way across the room. That was the first time in half a year. I yelled for our son—his mom had walked. Within a week she was moving around the house. Within a month, she was logging 5,000 steps a day, laughing with friends, going to parties. Her oncologist called it miraculous.

Life returned. Our home was lighter. The walker and wheelchair went back in the garage. We stopped arguing. We were happy again—almost like the storm had passed without us noticing.

Then her knee started to ache. Badly. We pulled the walker back out. Then the wheelchair. And when I had to reinstall the ramp on our front steps… that’s when it hit me.

We were back at the bottom.

Tensions flared again. My daughter and I, already frayed, started arguing like before. Caregiving is constant—it never turns off. It demands your whole being. You feel like if you step away for even a moment, everything might fall apart.

But this time… I told myself it would be different.

My wife, thankfully, was approved for Social Security Disability in a single day. Say what you will about government programs—but after 40 years of paying taxes, that moment mattered. It gave us some breathing room. I no longer needed to work part time just to get by. Now, I could be present. For her. For our daughter. And for myself.

That meant waking early. Drinking my coffee in peace. Saying my mantras. Walking the dogs. Going to fitness class. Writing. Reflecting.

We were gifted three months of light. Three months of freedom. And even if that season never returns, I will always cherish it.

Because I know how quickly it can all change.

Situational awareness isn’t just for combat zones. It’s for living rooms. For hospital beds. For quiet corners where you cry alone. It’s knowing when to breathe, when to speak, and when to let go of trying to control what can’t be controlled.

It’s about grace.

It’s about gratitude.

And it’s about recognizing—in the blink of an eye—that even the smallest step forward is a miracle worth holding onto.

Finding Strength in Fear: A Roadmap for Resilience

Sometimes we all need strength to persevere.  Some days are harder than others. Some moments are like ice. Sometimes we need to have a plan to move forward.  This is mine.

That feeling—of being stuck in place while time barrels forward like a freight train—is terrifying. The quiet becomes a roar. Your heart races while your body doesn’t move. It feels like you’re standing on a shore, watching a storm roll in, knowing you can’t hold back the waves.

But you’re not alone in this.

When fear takes over, survival doesn’t look like bravery. It looks like breathing, getting out of bed, putting one foot in front of the other, even if you don’t know where you’re going yet.

Here’s a small roadmap—just enough to get through one moment, then the next:

1. Name It

Say out loud (or write it down):
“I’m afraid of ____. I feel like ____.”
Giving fear a name takes away some of its power. It makes it something you are experiencing—not something that is you.

2. Shrink the Future

When the future feels unbearable, don’t try to live it all at once.
Try living just the next five minutes.
Then the next hour.
You’ll be surprised how far that can carry you.

3. Choose One Thing You Can Control

Maybe it’s taking a walk.
Making a cup of coffee.
Writing a message to someone you trust.
Control just one thing. That can be enough to anchor you today.

4. Let Others Be Your Strength

Even if you feel like a burden—you’re not.
Let someone carry a bit of this with you.
You don’t have to have the right words. Just say:

“I’m not okay. Can you just sit with me in this for a moment?”

5. Grace Over Guilt

If all you did today was survive—that counts.
You don’t have to fix everything. Not today. Maybe not even tomorrow.
You just have to keep showing up. You already are.

You asked how you can survive it.
You survive it the same way you’ve survived every hard thing before:
With a cracked heart and the quiet strength you don’t even realize you have.

And when you’re ready, we can talk about how to walk forward—not fast, just real.

I’m here for that walk whenever you are.

Navigating Self-Employment: Lessons from an Entrepreneur’s Journey

Starting your own business is a bit like setting off in a dinghy down the Mississippi—exciting, unpredictable, and, at times, terrifying. My wife and I took that plunge when we decided to work as independent contractors. That meant companies would pay us, but we had to figure out everything else—health insurance, taxes, payroll, and all those benefits that working for an established company provides. It was a kick in the pants, a push away from the directions our parents had given us, into the unknown.

As with most things in life, I turned to my friends for advice. “What business structure should I choose?” I asked. The overwhelming response: an S-Corp. It was supposedly the best fit for two independent contractors making (hopefully) over $80,000 a year. Simple enough. So, I did what any modern entrepreneur would do—I searched for help on Thumbtack. I hired another veteran, Connie, to handle the formation of our S-Corp. Anyone willing to take a call on April 16th—tax day—has to be organized. For $180, she set up: our EIN, corporate documents, election of a small business, and state Department of Revenue filings. One phone call in, and I had already surrendered a bit of my independence. No more TurboTax; now, I had a recurring expense for professional tax filing.

I asked Connie, “Do you take the federal and state taxes out of the payments from the companies I work with?” Of course not—why make it that easy? Instead, she referred me to a payroll service. So, after setting up a business bank account with a credit union, I added payroll administration to my growing list of responsibilities. Another necessary ally in the battle of self-employment.

Next came insurance—because nothing says “I’m a business owner” like signing up for multiple policies. We got umbrella insurance, professional liability, general liability, and even medical and dental coverage for our one employee (me, for now). Each policy brought its own admin portal, its own customer service lines, and, of course, another recurring expense. But hey, they’re all tax deductions, right?

Since my wife was both the co-owner and sole employee, she couldn’t have a business-provided HSA. That was one thing she had to set up separately, which was a small relief—I had enough programs to manage. Instead, I found myself stepping into a different role: webmaster. It was a throwback to my younger years and a chance to write, something I’ve always enjoyed.

Fast forward two years. The business we started has completely transformed. The contracts ended, the payroll services were canceled, and all the insurance policies were dropped. My wife, battling health challenges, could no longer work, which led to some incredibly lean months. I had to reinvent myself. Instead of project and capture management, I focused on something more meaningful: helping veterans get federal small business credentials and assisting them with disability claims.

It was a tough pivot. To make ends meet, I worked part-time at three different large retailers while also working on commission-only deals. The financial anxiety was relentless, but so was my drive to provide for my family and uphold my responsibilities. Slowly, through persistence and the kindness of others, things started to turn around. Former clients and friends began reaching out, and I found my footing as a fractional professional service provider in sales and operations.

After more than a year of working for commission only, I’m finally seeing the fruits of that labor. The journey has been anything but easy, and I’ve had moments where I wondered if it was all worth it. But as they say, “A soldier ain’t happy if he ain’t bitchin’.” So, I guess that means I’m happy. I’m happy.

Spinning Plates: Finding Balance After Military Service

Transitioning from military service to the civilian workforce is like spinning plates on sticks—you’ve got to keep everything moving while figuring out which plates need the most attention. The challenge isn’t just about finding a job; it’s about finding balance—between personal values, professional expectations, and the reality of today’s job market.

The military made many of these decisions for us. Where to be, what to do, how to prioritize. It was all part of the mission. Now, those choices are ours to make—but that doesn’t mean it’s easy.

One of the biggest struggles I face? Knowing when to set boundaries without being labeled as “not a team player.”

💡 Is being available 24/7 just the nature of high-paying jobs?

💡 Does part-time still mean part-time, or is it now a full-time commitment for less pay?

💡 How can you stand up for yourself in a workplace that expects more but gives less?

A mentor once told me, “It’s not like juggling—it’s like keeping plates spinning.” You have to constantly adjust your time, focus, and energy. Some plates require more effort. Others? Not worth the extra spin.

I was used to structure, leadership, and mission-driven work. But out here? The mission is you. If you don’t set your priorities, someone else will do it for you.

🚨 Call to Action: 🚨

✔ Know your worth. Don’t let employers take advantage of your work ethic.

✔ Set boundaries. Being available 24/7 doesn’t me your superstar; it’s about effectiveness.

✔ Help others. Share your experiences. Let’s keep each other from spinning plates that don’t deserve our time.

What lessons have you learned about balancing career, family, and well-being after service? Drop your thoughts in the comments—let’s make this a conversation that helps veterans take control of their futures.

My 5 bullet points for my Boss(es)

Here are five key reasons why your work across LOUJSWZ Inc., Holland Logistics Inc., and as VP for federal sales is irreplaceable by AI and demonstrates your superior performance:

  1. Strategic Relationship Building & Negotiation
  • You cultivate and maintain high-level relationships across federal, commercial, and logistics sectors, negotiating contracts and partnerships that require trust, intuition, and nuanced human judgment—something AI cannot replicate.
  1. Veteran Advocacy & Personalized Consulting
  • Your hands-on guidance for veterans navigating complex VA benefits and appeals requires deep empathy, real-world experience, and the ability to interpret unique cases beyond a data-driven approach.
  1. Complex Problem-Solving & Adaptive Leadership
  • Managing multi-faceted logistics operations, federal sales strategies, and consulting projects demands critical thinking, rapid adaptation to shifting conditions, and holistic decision-making that AI lacks the flexibility to perform.
  1. Process Optimization with Human Insight
  • You refine administrative and project management processes with a balance of technology and human expertise, ensuring efficiency while integrating ethical considerations and people-centric solutions that AI alone cannot achieve.
  1. Resilience & Emotional Intelligence in High-Stakes Environments
  • Your ability to navigate challenges, such as supporting Sherri’s medical journey while leading multiple businesses, demonstrates emotional intelligence, perseverance, and leadership under pressure—traits that AI cannot replicate in real-world application.

These qualities make you indispensable and elevate your work to a level that AI simply cannot reach.

One side says its the least you can do to demonstrate your value to the American Tax Payer.  The other says its a dictator taking over where they have no authority.   I feel it helps me understand what I do better and  ChatGPT did it for me in less than 5 minutes...  4 was writing the prompt.

Learning from Mistakes: A DUI Reflection

For over 40 years, I have been behind the wheel, driving without incident—until now. I got a DUI. It still feels surreal to write those words. But the reality is, it happened, and I have no excuse. I have asked myself over and over, why did I not realize how dangerous and serious this was? And if I did, why did I not care?

Maybe it’s the weight of family burdens. Maybe it’s the inescapable reality of watching someone you love battle cancer—the most fatal form of it—a cruel, relentless adversary. Maybe it’s the anger and pain of an adolescent facing the potential loss of her mother. Maybe it’s depression, anxiety, or the gnawing exhaustion that comes with carrying so much.

The truth is, sometimes I feel like giving up on being the best version of myself. And I hate that feeling. But when it comes, it consumes me until something shakes me awake. This time, it was my DUI.

For years, I pushed the envelope. Since before I was 19, I thought I had control. How I managed to avoid hurting myself or someone else all these years is nothing short of a miracle. I could lie to myself and say, I never drove under the influence before—that I felt fine driving home that night. But that’s just not true.

I know chemistry. I understand biology. I know how alcohol affects the body, how it impairs judgment, and how much is too much. Yet, on that night, I just didn’t care. That’s the scariest part.

I passed the field sobriety test, but that didn’t matter. As I sat handcuffed in the back of the sheriff’s patrol car, all I could think was, It’s about time. I was taken to the DUI intake center and given a breathalyzer test—.10% BAC,  2% over the legal limit. From there, I was booked into the county jail and spent several hours waiting to post bail.

What came next was worse than my own shame. Scammers took advantage of the situation, calling my family including my children and friends, pretending to be a bail bonds company. My wife, out of concern, sent them $1,000 through Apple Pay. That loss, that embarrassment, was the worst part of the whole ordeal.

I am an Eagle Scout. An Army officer. I have built my life on helping others. And yet, I let this happen. It’s a humbling and haunting realization. But the response from my loved ones has been my saving grace. They did not ridicule me. They did not abandon me. Instead, they supported me, reminding me that one mistake—however significant—does not erase a lifetime of integrity and service.

This DUI is my wake-up call, my ghost of Christmas future, showing me what could be if I don’t change. It has forced me to confront my own choices, my vulnerabilities, and my need to truly take care of myself so I can continue taking care of others. I will take this harbinger seriously. I will strive to be better.

For those who may find themselves in a similar position, my message is simple: take responsibility, learn from it, and don’t ignore the signs. You don’t want to wait for your own wake-up call. Be better now.