The borough has managed to weather the recession with the second-lowest unemployment rate in the New York City after Manhattan, according the US Department of Labor. The Furman Center for Real Estate and Urban Policy found in 2010 that Queens is the most middle class of the boroughs, with a relatively even distribution of wealth. As if it needed another number to fly under the radar of those with an eye on New York, the latest US Census found that Queens added an unsexy 1,343 people to its population between 2000 and 2010.

But the Goldilocks scenario of an economy that is neither too hot nor too cold is not enough for some in Queens.

“There is always room for improvement,” said State Senator Joseph Addabbo, who represents central and southwestern portion of the borough. “We in Queens should recapture our uniqueness.”

Addabbo joins a chorus of politicians and business interests in Queens that support an expansion of the racino—a combination of horse racing and other casino gambling—at the Aqueduct in Ozone Park. The project could take any form, advocates say, from an expanded casino with full table gaming to something along the lines of Governor Cuomo’s failed plan to construct the country’s largest convention center near the racetrack. Some concede that the borough could make do with a more modest-sized project to rival the aging Javits Center in Manhattan. Any large project would bring an influx of jobs and revenue to the borough, they say. But due to an intertwining of political and business interests in Albany, the massive shot-in-the-arm project that some in Queens are hoping for could be a long way off.

The plan for expanding the Aqueduct site—announced with great fanfare by Governor Cuomo earlier this year—fell apart when the state failed refused to grant exclusive gambling rights in New York City to Genting, the company that operates the casino.

The governor faces competing interests in the state, which pit upstate Indian casinos against any expansion of gambling in New York that would threaten their monopoly on the industry. That means, at the least, preventing Genting from acquiring any sort of exclusive contract in New York City or elsewhere. Although a state constitutional amendment that would legalize table gaming in New York City and increase the Aqueduct racino’s revenue is slated for next year, its success is uncertain.

In the short term, the political wrangling has prevented an economic stimulus to Queens. The Aqueduct site has quickly become the largest slot machine since opening last year. According to the Queens Chamber of Commerce, the racino has created over 1,500 jobs—the majority of them being held by Queens residents. If table gaming were legalized and the convention center built, Genting representatives say, over 10,000 jobs could be added from its construction and operation.

“There is no question the development of a convention center would lead to jobs and revenue,” said Stefan Friedman, a spokesman for Genting.

Friedman says the company is eager to continue working with the governor, however.

“We are eager to continue development,” he Friedman.

The economic impact of Genting’s presence in Queens has also reignited another decades-old debate in the borough.

The Rockaway Beach rail line, which once ran for miles through Queens, has for 40 years been nothing more than an abandoned eyesore running through residents’ backyards. Some politicians have publically advocated reactivating the line in light of an expanded casino and convention center at the Aqueduct, a plan that Genting has expressed interest in funding.

“It just seems like the obvious choice for residents in southern Queens,” said Assemblyman Philip Goldfeder, who represents Rockaway and supports a reactivation. “The convention center is just a catalyst. Restoring the Rockaway line will give us so many options here to connect.”

The reactivation plan is competing with neighborhood plans to convert a stretch of the abandoned rail into a city park, akin to Manhattan’s Highline. Advocates of the plan say that a park with vendors and safe lighting would create jobs and increase land values.

“This could be an economic engine for a very derelict area,” said Andrea Crawford, a local activist and chairperson of Queens Community Board 9. “We know it’s feasible.”

The Resorts World Casino opened last year in Queens and has since seen over 20,000 visitors a day on weekdays and 50,000 a day on weekends. The success of the casino has increased ridership on the subway that services the area and its residents, according to local politicians and community activists. That increased ridership has reignited an old debate in Queens over the fate of the Rockaway Beach rail line, which has lied dormant for nearly 50 years.

On one side, some politicians and transit advocates are pushing for a reactivation of the old rail line. To them, the addition of another rail line will accomodate both the increased traffic on trains in the area while providing economic development to neighborhoods that sorely need more access to public transportation.

On the other, some community leaders want to transform the derelict rail line into a Highline-style park. With food vendors, retail opportunities and a scenic walkway, the leaders are hoping to provide an economic engine for a handful of Queens communities without having a new train barrel through residents’ backyards.

Whatever plan wins, the state of the rail line now is a dismal one. The tracks are in disrepair, and many local residents use the area as a trash dump. Some residents even report of homeless New Yorkers who find shelter in some of the abandoned rail stops. Where some parts of the old line still have tracks and remnants of infrastructure, others have been completely lost to wilderness.

“People know if you come back and have problems, send them to this post and we’ll get you where you need to go,” says Tom Mazza, a large bearded man, who served in Vietnam from 1968-1969. Mazza is the Quartermaster and second-in-command at the post.

Mazza and the rest of the post pride themselves on two distinct characteristics: their dedicated advocacy for returning veterans and their commitment as community benefactors. Even new members are proud of the post’s high community involvement. According to Commander Israel Rivera, The Edward R. Miller Post in Ridgewood has eight members who served in either Iraq or Afghanistan. Of the 14 other VFW posts in Queens, none have a similar number of recently returned veterans.

“When you have an organization like 7336 and you see what they have on their calendar and what they have going on for the next month, it makes you want to be more involved,” said Sean Baltrusitis, a former Master Sergeant in the Army who completed three tours of duty in Iraq.

Baltrusitis spent 23 years in the Army. When he returned to Queens and tried participating in Ridgewood Post 123, Baltrusitis found it lacked the qualities of Post 7336.

“Others are fruitlessly spending money, and are not a positive role model for the community,” said Baltrusitus. He characterized other VFWs as “more of a socialized canteen.”

James Malamas, 32, an ex-Operations Specialist for the Navy, is another recent addition to the post. When Malamas decided to get involved with the VFW, he knew what to look for.

“I just walked in and asked a couple quick questions. And I asked what do they do for the community,” said Malamas. “I didn’t want to join a post that just sits there and doesn’t help people out or help each other out.”

This post has donated money and flags to local schools and sponsors a little league team. They’ve helped find funds for people that can’t afford wheelchairs or beds. They run an annual bus trip to Calverton National Cemetery for family members of soldiers killed in action so that they can visit the graves of their loved ones.

Each spring members hold a parade that culminates in a free barbecue attended by over 400 people, according to Mazza, the post’s quartermaster. They bus in currently enlisted soldiers and sailors from ships that arrive during Fleet Week, which falls at the same time as their parade.

“We let everyone eat, and to say thank you for the community like that, we don’t charge for food,” said Malamas. “We just sit down and have a good time.”

Post 7336’s veteran advocacy work also attracts recent veterans of the Iraq and Afghanistan wars.

For example, Baltrusitis’s stepfather suffers from a very acute muscle disease akin to Lou Gehrig’s disease which keeps him from certain activities. When the Department of Veterans Affairs turned down his application for a home improvement project, post 7336 contacted a service representative from the organization who met with Baltrusitis’s step-dad and helped him re-file his claim.

According to Mazza, Post 7336 helps veterans navigate the red tape and paperwork necessary to execute disability filings and health claims. The post advocates on behalf of veterans needing cancer treatments and recent veterans battling Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

“They don’t give you anything, you’ve got to fight for it,” said Mazza. He sees the post as a resource for veterans engaged in that fight.

The combination of recent veterans and long-standing members helps strenghten Post 7336.

“The old and the new is a great chemistry. You learn how they used to do things, and how things need to get done today,” said Baltrusitis. The older members share knowledge of the bureaucracy newer veterans might face while younger members contribute their familiarity with electronic and internet resources.

“That’s one thing that no one can ever take away from me,” said Baltrusitis. “I served my country and now I’m able to serve the veterans coming home around me.”

Today’s military is an all-volunteer outfit. Of all the veterans in the city, 16,000 New Yorkers served in Iraq and Afghanistan. Since 2001, some of them have mobilized themselves and are now active in the peace movement nationwide.

“I was strongly against the Iraq War,” said Jose Vasquez, executive director of Iraq Veterans Against the War. “And I guess that led me to question why I was in the military in the first place.”

Vasquez had joined the Army Reserves as a combat medic in 1997. He never served abroad specifically because of his opposition to the war in Iraq. Instead, Vasquez joined IVAW in 2005 and became a conscientious objector two years later.

He is one of IVAW’s more than 1,500 members across 24 states. The organization was formed when the first deployments to Iraq came home. Some of the veterans and active-duty service men and women began to speak out against what they called private contractor waste, and abuse and torture of Iraqi civilians.

While the anti-war existed before last year’s Occupy Wall Street protests, Vasquez said that veterans came out of the woodwork for the marches.

“By and large, people who serve in the military come from a working class background,” he said, and added that issues including jobs and education are priorities for some members.

“A lot veterans feel strongly abut those things and those are some of the reasons why they decided to join the military,” Vasquez said.

Former Marine Sgt. Shane Strassberg, 30, is one of those veterans. He served two tours in Iraq, his first in 2004. He explained that his service helped him better understand the movement.

“My service indoctrinated me with a core belief that my service was intimately connected to civilians’ right to free speech, assembly and capability to address grievances against the government,” he said.

It was enough to convince Strassberg to get involved. Currently a pursing a master’s degree in anthropology at Hunter College, he decided to march with the Occupy movement on more than one occasion.

“I ultimately saw the injustices being perpetrated upon the Occupiers as a direct assault on my oath and obligation to protect those rights for them,” he said.

When Peleaz, 24, left his home in Queens to join the Marines in 2008, he says he was quiet and humble, nice to everyone he met.

“But now? Hell no, not anymore.”

Since returning to New York City in February 2012, Peleaz has been short-tempered and paranoid. He averages three hours of sleep per night and has trouble with concentration and short-term memory. And he grieves daily for his fallen comrades.

Pelaez suffers not only from a traumatic brain injury, or TBI, but also from post-traumatic stress disorder, or PTSD. Data from the RAND Corporation, a global nonprofit research institution, indicate that one in five veterans returning from Iraq and Afghanistan has sustained a TBI; the figure is the same for PTSD.

New York City can be an inhospitable place for someone with a heightened sensitivity to crowds or loud noises. Peleaz has a hard time on busy sidewalks. For Alexander Mobilia, a Navy vet who has PTSD, it’s sirens.

“In Iraq, when you heard a siren, it meant you were going to get shot at,” Mobilia, 28, said. “So when I hear sirens I get a bit…freaky.”

Peleaz, a mortarman, sustained his brain injury on a nighttime operation during Ramadan, August 2009, when an improvised explosive device, or IED – a makeshift bomb – exploded near a Humvee he was in.

“I hit my head – it was like a ping-pong, going left and right,” Peleaz said. “I got knocked out cold.”

The increasing frequency of IED attacks has played a major role in making TBI into what Dr. Mary Hibbard, a neuropsychologist at the NYU Langone Medical Center, calls “the signature of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.” In 2009, when Peleaz was injured, there were about 3,300 IED attacks executed in Afghanistan, by NATO figures; in 2011, there were over six thousand.

The danger from IEDs does not lie solely in a direct impact. The waves of pressure that are released by an exploding IED can produce a concussion even in a person not directly affected by the blast. Indirect exposure to multiple blasts can result in series of concussions, each of which compounds the trauma inflicted before.

TBI is difficult to detect because of its surface similarities to, and common co-occurrence with, PTSD. Of 497,000 soldiers who received healthcare from the Veterans Health Administration between 2005 and 2009, 5 percent received treatment for both. Both produce shorter tempers and paranoia, but the emotional damage wrought by PTSD is more readily apparent than the cognitive and behavioral deficits caused by TBI, said Judith Avner, executive director of the Brain Injury Association of New York State.

Until recently, the difficulty of detecting TBIs was further exacerbated by the military protocol for reporting them, which relied on soldier reports. The United States Department of Defense adopted new protocols for earlier detection in 2010, which include mandatory screenings and observations for soldiers who have been exposed to a blast. Dr. Hibbard said that better routine documentation of exposure to potential trauma would help improve the rate of diagnosis.

But diagnosis is only the beginning. For soldiers suffering from the one-two punch of TBI and PTSD, the transition to civilian and family life is an impossibly long road. Peleaz feels that his fellow soldiers are the only people who he can really relate to.

“We text each other every day,” he said. “They ask me if I’m doing all right. I say naw. And they aren’t doing all right either, because it’s hard for them to relate to anybody.”

Mobilia, too, said he has trouble connecting with people –including veterans from previous wars, whose experiences are unlike his.

“Where’s this vet population I keep hearing about?” he said. “Where are the people my age?”

Antonio Sosa, 31, knows the strain distance and military culture puts on families. He experienced it firsthand after returning from Iraq in 2009. His adjustment has required a series of small steps, from reintroducing himself to his children to managing his aggression at home.

Sosa missed the birth of both of his children, Steven, 6, and Zoey, 3. He said the bond was particularly hard to rebuild with his daughter. “I missed everything. I missed part of life when she cried sometimes and I wasn’t there to hold her hand,” Sosa said.
Just over half of today’s military personnel are married, 51 percent and 73 percent of those married have children. Twelve percent of military families have both spouses in the military.

Sosa served in the U.S. Navy and Iraq for more than eight years. He is now studying anthropology at City College of New York.

Welby Alcantara, coordinator for veterans’ affairs at CCNY, said the impact of war on veterans and their families cannot be overstated. Many of them battle with alcoholism, anger issues and post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Many veterans struggle with domestic violence, which eventually separates families.

Dr. Morton Ender, professor of behavioral sciences at West Point, said adjustment from military to civilian life often leaves soldiers feeling angry and frustrated.

“At home things change because you’re dealing with mundane things not life or death issues and it takes a while to readjust,” Ender said.

Sosa, who has been married for 12 years, said his wife has patiently supported him in his readjustment. He said he yelled at his children and drank frequently after he returned.

“She calms me down when I am out of control. Our code word is ‘Bananas’ and that’s how I know I’m getting out of control,” Sosa said.

Like many veterans, Sosa found it difficult to separate behavior appropriate in Iraq from expectations at home.

“It was normal for me to get aggressive,” while in Iraq, he said.

“It was normal for me to drink. I’m a soldier. I was allowed to, and that normality sticks with you until you find out that’s not normal,” he said.

When he first returned after eight years deployed, he had to make up for many birthdays lost, especially those of his daughter.

“I missed the fun parts. She didn’t know who the hell I was,” Sosa said. “It took me awhile to gain her trust. It was pretty hard. I accepted the fact that after you’ve been away, your kids will just not look at you like a father figure.”

Sosa has had to work hard to become a part of his daughter’s life again, even by doing small things like buying her candy.

John-Pierre Blanchette, 29, served in the navy as an engineer for five years. He was discharged from the navy for post-traumatic stress in February this year. He often felt angry after losing his naval career, and became depressed when his two close friends committed suicide after they returned. He turned to family therapy when he returned home.

“My therapy showed me that the feelings I’m feeling are normal,” said Blanchette, who lives in Crown Heights, Brooklyn. “I’m not crazy.”

Blanchette, like Sosa, struggled to find a place in civilian life, especially since his deployment was abruptly cut off. But with the help of his wife Michelle, and their son Jordan, 8, he quickly learned how to deal with his emotions and adjust.

He learned how to familiarize himself with what made him angry. Most of the time, his wife would recognize when he was beginning to get out of control, but sometimes he was on his own.

Blanchette said he eventually began to recognize what would set him off, and at those moments, he or his wife would try some calming techniques.

“You have to know when it’s about to start, he said, “I catch myself.”

Anger management is a work in progress for Sosa too.

“I’m still fighting it, but then you realize you have friends who look up to you, said Sosa. “You have a wife and kids. They look up to you too. That’s what keeps me calm.”

Veterans “don’t understand civilian jargon the same way you don’t understand military jargon,” said Mike Abrams, an Afghanistan veteran, about the cultural gap that separates those who served from those who didn’t.

Abrams, 32, studied education at SUNY Cortland and worked several part-time jobs before his 2004 deployment to Afghanistan. He finished his active duty as an artillery officer in the States and feels lucky that he didn’t transition “straight from Kabul to the classroom.” He recently graduated from New York University with a master’s degree in finance and entrepreneurship. In an effort to assist veterans, Abrams launched Four Block, an organization that provides résumé workshops, internship placements and networking events.

“Veterans do have a place, but getting there is the hard part,” said Won Paulisol, 28, a Marine veteran who served in Japan and now works with Abrams.

According to Stephen Clark, the director of CUNY’s Office of Veteran Affairs, over 3,000 veterans are currently enrolled at CUNY—a 55 percent increase since 2009. He says the services provided by Four Block are necessary, but many skills acquired overseas can be helpful, too.

“Some of the transferable skills that are learned in the military are exposure to other cultures, a cultural awareness,” said Clark. “Veterans have had security clearance, which transfers to paramilitary jobs.”

For Sharmistha Mohapatra, her 2008 deployment to Afghanistan taught her about project management, public speaking and training others. She and her army team designed courses in plumbing, contracting and carpentry to train Afghani civilians who might otherwise join the opposition.

“I’ve just gained general professionalism,” said Mohapatra, who studied public health as an undergraduate. “As far as things I’ve missed out on, it was the time spent outside my field of study.”

When Mohapatra started the job search, she realized her credentials weren’t enough for her to break into the education field. The Maryland native moved to New York and enrolled in Columbia’s Teachers College. She used the GI Bill—a law that distributes benefits to veterans—for financial assistance.

Last year, New York City veterans received just over $148 million in education and employment benefits—over one-third of the amount given to the entire state. According to Jason Chakot, a senior training technician at the state’s Department of Veteran Affairs, the money helps veterans stay financially stable while in school.

“If someone gets out of the army as a military police officer and then works at a police station, they have most of the certifications but not everything,” said Chakot. “The GI Bill pays them some money until they become officially certified.”

The Bill started as the Servicemen’s Adjustment Act of 1944 to provide veterans with low-cost mortgages, business and education loans as World War II neared its end. But the new Basic Allowance for Housing provision pays a stipend based on geographic location, giving New York City’s veterans more aid than veterans in other locations.

“With the old GI Bill I wouldn’t have been able to do that,” said a New York City-based veteran who requested anonymity as he searches for a job. “For anyone to go to school in the five boroughs, they are pretty much set.”

“The cops are coming!” the troops shouted as Bryant, a Brooklyn South police officer from Staten Island, approached.

Though only for a moment, a New York City police chase came to war-torn Afghanistan.

Officer Andy Bryant, nearly 41, has served in both the Armed Forces and in the police department. Bryant was a Marine during Operation Desert Storm from 1989 to 1993. When he returned, he became a New York State corrections officer, and then a New York City police officer. After 16 years, though, Bryant decided to reenlist in the Armed Forces in 2009, this time in the Army. He returned to New York in June 2011 and rejoined the police force a month later.

Bryant is among many drawn to both police work and the military. Within U.S. law enforcement agencies, about 11,380 full-time sworn law enforcement officers were activated in the military within a year – about two percent of the law enforcement workface nationwide – according to a September 2009 U.S. Bureau of Justice Assistance document. About two-thirds of these officers were from local law enforcement agencies.

Bryant saw clear connections between his military and NYPD experiences – in discipline, camaraderie and service. When he was in Afghanistan, he had a sense of déjà vu of his days fighting crime on New York City streets.

“We would hear, ‘incoming’ and you would have to either respond to your location and grab a weapon and make sure that nothing was coming within your perimeter of a threat,” Bryant said. “It just felt like I was back on the street more.”

Michael Franco, 33, a coastguardsman and New York City police officer, had to apply his NYPD discipline and training when he fought off a soldier who attempted to rape and kill a female soldier in Kandahar.

As he struggled for half an hour, wrestling the attacker to the floor, trying to force him to drop his gun, Franco put his NYPD gun training to use, he said. Franco was caught off guard. He was wearing shorts and a T-shirt at the time and did not have a weapon. His fellow troops, many of them police officers from around the country, were shocked and had mixed reactions.

“The guys who are cops said, ‘you’re crazy for fighting him without a weapon,’” said Franco, who lives in Staten Island and works in narcotics in Manhattan. “The command on both sides – the Coast Guard and Army side – were very grateful for what I did.”

After the incident, the woman relocated to Bagram, where Bryant was responsible for watching over her. The two bonded, and Bryant even taught her salsa dancing.

“It was one of those things where you just look at her like a little sister,” Bryant said.

Bryant formed similar bonds with his fellow servicemen in both the Army and the NYPD.

“If you have a great bond with some of them, you end up knowing everything there is to know about them, from when they’re in a bad mood to what they’re allergic to, to what they love best and what they hate most, and it’s that type of bond that you create with somebody in your family,” he said.

For Franco, whether he was doing narcotics work or serving in the Coast Guard, he knew that he always had a team to back him up.

“You have no idea what’s behind that door, you have to know that the person who is in front of you and the person who is in back of you is going to have your back,” Franco said.

The idea of service also links the military and the police force together, according to Bryant.

“As an 18-year-old kid, when you really start to get a grasp of what you’re a part of, it’s not that impressionable, but as you become older, as you become an older man, a father, and you see, you become part of these people’s lives as soldiers and cops,” he said. “It really is a fantastic thing to serve.”