Walter Edwards, who fought in the Vietnam War, at a Veterans Day ceremony in downtown Manhattan. Edwards was a onetime resident at a transitional housing center for veterans in Harlem before recently moving to Staten Island. Anival Barrett, recreational coordinator and chairman for the Veterans Action Group, is pictured to the immediate left. Photo: Andrew Keshner

Eddie Hickey had just found a studio in an East Harlem building this past summer that was perfect for him. He went downstairs to the building’s offices, only to learn that the building had a credit check requirement.  That scrapped any moving plans for the 64-year-old Vietnam veteran who has bad credit because of debts totaling between $2,000 and $2,500.

“It would be silly of me to give them $75 since I knew the result, so I just turned around and withdrew my application,” said Hickey, who now lives in transitional housing for homeless veterans on 119th Street in Central Harlem, just south of Marcus Garvey Park.

Hickey ran into the same problem when looking for apartments in Washington Heights. The landlord of those properties refused to deal with Hickey because it had kicked him out of an apartment it owned in Queens. Hickey has not been apartment hunting since.

“It’s a general standard for an employed person making $40,000, $50,000 a year,” Hickey said of credit checks with his raspy smokers’ voice, noting he only has to cover 30 percent of the rent with his Section 8 voucher. “It’s holding me to a standard that I don’t think I should be held to.”

Hickey’s difficulties in finding permanent housing are not uncommon among veterans — nor are they going away as a fresh round of veterans are returning from Iraq and Afghanistan. Veterans account for one-third of the homeless individuals nationwide, according to Department of Veterans Administration data.

Of the 380,000 veterans living in New York City and Long Island, just over 5,500 are homeless, according to a 2008 report from Community Homelessness Assessment, Local Education and Networking Groups, a VA program working with community agencies to coordinate services for homeless veterans. U.S. Sen. Charles Schumer  (D-N.Y.) cited the report in a recent press release about the introduction of several veterans-related measures. There are more than 600 homeless veterans within the approximately 44,000 Manhattan veterans, according to Schumer’s release.

Meanwhile, soldiers coming back from current conflicts give a new urgency to the matter. The latest crop of homeless veterans are winding up that way after around 18 months, compared with many homeless Vietnam vets after trying to readjust to civilian life after five to 10 years, Pete Dougherty, director of homeless veterans programs at the Department of Veterans Affairs, said in a 2007 Boston Globe article. The Veterans Administration and community providers have called permanent housing one of the top two unmet needs for the past three years, according to a report on veterans housing. A spokesperson for the Veterans Administration declined to comment, and a spokesperson for the New York City Mayor’s Office of Veterans’ Affairs did not return calls.

Just a quick look around the block from the 174-unit SRO, standing for “single room occupancy,” offers a snapshot on the barriers veterans face in finding housing uptown. Across the street stands an approximately 20-story residential building of exposed brick and brushed metal that’s nearing completion. A banner boasts “160 superbly designed” apartments and amenities, like a lap pool and valet parking. A sales representative for Fifth on Park, one of the two companies managing the building, said the building was not accepting Section 8 vouchers, noting that a one-bedroom rental would be more than $2,000 while a three-bedroom would cost $4,000. The representative would not identify himself, saying he didn’t want his name tied to a story on the lack of veterans housing.

Just around the corner on Fifth Avenue, a smaller-scale building is under construction. A sign in the window announces an October lottery for 43 affordable rental housing units in the site. Residents living within the borders of Community Boards 10 and 11 are given a preference for half of the units, but a city spokesman said that without knowing the address of the center, he could not determine if the veterans at the center were eligible. Management is still reviewing the almost 2,500 applications and renters are expected to start moving in this month, he said.

The "SRO," or "single room occupancy," for veterans on 119th Street. Photo: Andrew Keshner

But some at the veterans residence do move on. Walter Edwards, 63, is in the process of moving out to live with his 84-year-old mother in her Staten Island split-level home. He’s lived in the SRO for five years and has been clean for the past 15 months after a more than 30-year drug addiction. He became addicted to painkillers in the late ’70s and the habit escalated to cocaine and heroin. When he retired he could no longer pay rent for his Brooklyn apartment and buy drugs, and ended up losing everything.

On Veterans Day, Edwards and  several other veterans from the residence visited  the Vietnam War memorial on Water Street in downtown Manhattan. The day’s event was a far cry from the official parade in midtown, with its uniformed color guards marching in lockstep and its snare drum rimshots and bass drum thuds from New Jersey and Virginia high school marching bands echoing up Fifth Avenue. Instead, the assembled veterans spoke with a microphone attached to a karaoke machine. After the ceremonies, including the National Anthem and “Taps,” the machine crooned velvety ’60s and ’70s soul classics like Barry White’s “Can’t Get Enough of Your Love, Babe.”

Edwards, who served as an airman from 1964 to 1968, wore a black leather jacket that day with a large POW-MIA patch covering the back; it’s the only day of the year when he wears the jacket. Edwards helped lay the metal foundation for the same monument back in the early ’80s. Being there on Veterans Day, on the verge of leaving the SRO, was a powerful experience, he said.  Some veterans settle for a life in the SRO, he said, comfortable with their drugs. Not him. “It feels great. Now I’m straight, I can’t wait,” Edwards said of moving out. Looking to stay busy, he’s now training to work as a security guard through the American Association of Retired Persons and is preparing for an upcoming job interview.

Edwards and Hickey both attend a weekly meeting in the residence’s main lounge for Veterans Action Group, a support group aiming to get homeless veterans back on their feet. Anival Barrett, chairman of the group and recreational coordinator at the center, leads the meetings. “If you’re under the thought this is a place to come and die, it’s not,” he said during one recent meeting. Meetings are part  pep talk,  part information session as Barrett keeps members up on benefits open to them or upcoming events with his booming and dynamic delivery.

Surrounded by badges, pictures and gym equipment in his office upstairs, Barrett — who served in the military from 1962 to 1973 and fought in Vietnam from 1965 to 1966 — explains that many homeless veterans are badly hobbled by bad discharges or lack of information regarding the benefits open to them. A dishonorable discharge shuts down access to certain housing loans, vendors licenses, small business loans, medical benefits and vocational training, he said, adding: “A bad discharge is a form of stigmata. It shouldn’t but it does affect a lot of the hiring.”

Residents at the 119th Street center, run by a social services organization called Black Veterans for Social Justice Inc., have already worked their way through the shelter system, starting out at Bellevue Hospital and passing through places like Borden Avenue Veterans Residence in Queens. The uptown housing — a single room with a shared bathroom, kitchen and lounge with three other residents — is intended as a last step toward permanent housing. But some get comfortable, said Barrett, having their rooms decked out with computers and flat-screen televisions. “I always tell them, ‘Try to live as spartan as you can because you don’t want to set up like you’re here for life,’ ” he said. “Don’t get too damn comfortable. Nobody’s going to kick you out, but you deserve more than that damn room.”

Looking back, Hickey has both fond and gruesome memories as a former private first class. “I wouldn’t trade it for anything,” he said. “But I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone else,” he said. Back in civilian life, Hickey once planned on becoming a teacher but got into bartending and singing Frank Sinatra tunes while waiting to take his teaching exam and made a career of it. He overcame a drug problem in the ’80s but still copes with post-traumatic stress disorder and sleep problems. He’s now in the process of appealing to the Veterans Administration for larger benefits while selling pants at Macy’s.

Just before explaining his housing search, Hickey attended a memorial service for Zackary Foster Marchmon, a 47-year-old former lance corporal with the Marines who had been living at the center since 2005. Marchmon died in November. “A lot of people go out of here feet first,” said Hickey, adding that he’s seen three or four such memorials in the past six months. He’s resolved not to stay long enough to see many more and it’s only a matter of time before he finds an apartment, he says. Hickey plans to resume his search soon, saying: “I want an apartment. I want out.”

The Harlem Hellfighters march up Fifth Avenue at the start of the Veterans Day Parade. (Photo by Nate Rawlings)

As nearly 20,000 active troops, reservists and veterans assembled at Washington Square Park in the pre-dawn chill on Veterans Day, listening to praise for their sacrifice from dignitaries as they double-checked uniforms, flags and banners for the parade up Fifth Avenue, the Harlem Hellfighters of the 369th Sustainment Brigade stood ready. Their preparations were complete before the speeches began.

“I wasn’t assigned this, I just took it,” Spc. Richard Figueroa, a soldier with more than 10 years in the unit, said of the brigade’s banner. Behind the Figueroa, more than 200 Hellfighters got set to march.

The 369th Sustainment Brigade, headquartered at 142nd Street next to the Harlem River, has soldiers from all over the city and upstate who do a myriad of complex missions. It includes two transportation companies in Staten Island and New Windsor, a communications unit in Peekskill and a finance company in Whitestone.

The 369th shoulders most of the combat support for the 53^rd Troop Command, one of the two largest commands in the New York National Guard. The Hellfighters added units as part of an Army-wide reorganization after the start of the Iraq War that moved many different jobs into the same brigade.

“The unit’s changed, it’s a lot bigger now,” Figueroa said.  “It was a lot more comfortable before — now we’re bigger, so it’s going to take a little bit of getting used to.”

While the 369th plays a supporting role today, the unit descends from the Harlem Hellfighters of the 369th Infantry Regiment, an all-black unit that fought in both World Wars. The original Hellfighters deployed to France in late 1917 under the command of future U.S. Congressman Hamilton Fish III and fought as part of the 16^th French Infantry Division. The Hellfighters spent more than six months on the front lines, fought in four major campaigns and suffered more than 1,500 casualties, according to the New York State Military Museum.

The Hellfighters became one of most decorated New York units in World War I. Pvt. Henry Lincoln Johnson was the first American to be awarded the French Croix de Guerre for valor after fighting off 24 Germans in close, hand to hand combat.

In World War II, the Hellfighters fought as part of the all-black 93rd Division that saw action in New Guinea, Jolo and Morotai in the Pacific Theater.

Despite the change in the 369th’s mission, current troops remain well versed in the unit’s history and decorations. Before a soldier in the 369th can wear the unit’s crest, a blue shield with a curled rattlesnake, he or she must memorize and answer questions about the Hellfighters’s battle accomplishments.

“Once you can relate the history back to the higher rank officer, then you get pinned,” Figueroa said. “And that’s the way we keep our history going.”

Eight years after the 9/11 attacks and six years into the Iraq War, many reserve units are short-handed, but the 369th sees no shortage of reserve soldiers.

“We’re actually over strength right now,” said Staff Sgt. Jaime Lino, a former active duty paratrooper in the 82^nd Airborne Division who left the regular Army to become a personnel specialist in the 369th. “We’re authorized 2146, and we have 2190-something, so we’re doing OK.”

“But that kills reenlistment bonuses,” Spc. Rafael Hernandez added.

The modern day Hellfighters see themselves as an important part of the community and keepers of Harlem history.

“A lot of money’s been brought into Harlem,” Figueroa said.  “A lot of the brownstones have been fixed up now, a lot of new businesses. But they gotta keep their culture, their own culture. That’s why I think it’s real important for the unit to keep it going.”

At the call to attention, the Hellfighters straightened up. Behind the parade’s grand marshal, legendary actor and World War II Navy veteran Tony Curtis, the Hellfighters marched through a canyon of cheering crowds up Fifth Avenue toward Central Park.

CCNY student veteran Aubrey Arcangel prepares to speak before a City Council hearing held by the higher education and veterans committees on Oct. 27 to determine how many New York City veterans have been affected by delayed GI Bill payments. (Photo by Lisa Waananen)

Delays in GI Bill payments from the Veterans Administration forced veterans enrolled at City College to borrow from parents, beg landlords for lenience and consider dropping out, junior Aubrey Arcangel testified at a City Council hearing last week.

“Student veterans were watching the situation develop day-to-day, trying to figure out how long they were able to hold on before they would have to drop out to pay the bills,” said Arcangel, who was among the veteran leaders who pushed for the new GI Bill in Washington last year.

Like many student veterans around the country, those at City College have waited since the beginning of the school year while the VA struggles to process an influx of applications for the Post-9/11 GI Bill, which went into effect Aug. 1.

The new GI Bill broadly improves education benefits for recent veterans. Meant to enable anyone who served on active duty since Sept. 11, 2001, to attend college full-time without struggling to pay for it, it increases maximum tuition and living stipends. Instead of a flat rate, it takes location into account for living expenses – a change particularly important in high-cost areas like New York City. A student veteran at City College eligible for maximum benefits should receive $500 each semester for books and $2,744 each month for living expenses, with tuition and fees covered by the VA and the state Veterans Tuition Award.

But delays in payments mean that reality has fallen short of the promise. Adjusting to life as a civilian and a student is a huge transition, Arcangel said, and the GI Bill is supposed to make it easier for new students, not add to their stress. “This is their first semester and they’re having to worry about their finances instead of their studies,” he said. “It’s ridiculous.”

CCNY student Livia Abreu got out of the military in August, and figured college was the logical option for a 22-year-old who doesn’t want to end up working at McDonald’s. She did everything she was supposed to and received certification for GI Bill benefits this summer, but then the checks didn’t arrive. “I’m counting on this money that I, you know, earned,” she said. “And I don’t have it. I can’t pay my phone bill, I can’t pay my car, I can’t pay my rent.”

Abreu hadn’t expected she’d need to ask her parents for help at this point in her life. She’d paid her own income taxes. She’d been to war.
“Then I come home,” she said, “and I have to be, ‘Hey Mom, can I get $2 for a sandwich?”

In response to similar stories around the country, the VA started handing out $3,000 advance checks on Oct. 2 to veterans awaiting payments. Abreu arrived at the regional office downtown by 7:45 a.m. that day, along with hundreds of other New York veterans. The whole process took a little more than two hours, she said.

“I walked out pretty happy,” she said afterward. “I’m not completely satisfied yet, but it’s progress.”

When the VA announced that emergency checks would be issued, its employees were working overtime to process more than 277,000 applications for the new GI Bill. At that point in late September, the VA had certified more than 200,000 of those veterans for the benefits, but made only 61,000 actual payments to schools and students.

As the VA lagged, City College stepped up. When the money for books didn’t arrive – forcing some veterans to consider dropping classes with expensive books – Associate Vice President of Student Affairs Robert Rodriguez arranged a loan program. The $3,000 emergency checks meant only a couple of veterans needed to take advantage of the offer, but Rodriguez said it’s still important as part of the college’s commitment. “I made it clear to the veterans that if they need the money, it is there for them,” he said.

Accommodating veterans has been a personal cause for Rodriguez, himself an Army veteran. Even before the national changes in benefits, Rodriguez was rallying support within the university administration for better veterans’ services on campus. About 75 veterans attended City College last year; now there are more than 200. More than a dozen are already planning to start spring semester. “It’s definitely increasing, and we just need to be prepared for it,” Rodriguez said.

These days, City College veterans can get information and help from Veterans Affairs Coordinator Welby Alcantara, hired in May, and spend time between classes at a new lounge space designated for veterans. They can join the City College Veterans Association, which Arcangel leads while the president is studying abroad. A year ago, none of those resources existed.

Alcantara said a few veterans did decide to drop classes like physics or calculus, which require books costing more than $100. He’s seen student veterans come into his office stressed to the point of dropping out, convinced they couldn’t stay in school if the bills kept stacking up with no sign of the VA payments. Alcantara said veterans able to get through to the VA to ask about their benefits received the same standard answer: “Four to six weeks.”

“The VA works just like the military: Hurry up and wait,” he said.

The long-anticipated checks started showing up soon after the VA began issuing emergency checks, and by the end of October most City College veterans were waiting nervously for midterm exam results instead of money.

So far, no City College veterans have dropped out.

It’s still frustrating to see veterans in the embarrassing position of asking for loans and favors because the VA wasn’t prepared to process the increase in applications, Arcangel said. He and other veterans who used the older version of the GI Bill learned to expect delays, he said, but the Post-9/11 GI Bill was supposed to change that.

“We served our country and this is a benefit that’s owed to us,” Arcangel said. “We’re not reaching for a handout; this is something that was promised to us.”