The Rescue Effort Builds

September 13, 2001 – early evening

There are thousands of rescuers on scene today, and others are arriving in a steady stream from all over the country. Many have traveled great distances to make it here to Manhattan. They arrive tired and hungry -- yet they go right to work, often searching for hours before stopping to eat or rest. One group I meet from Harrisburg, PA has been pushing themselves so hard, that they have not yet made it back to the perimeter for a break. I ask how they rest? I’m told that they simply lay down in the debris during their breaks. They’re catching their naps just a few yards from heavy machinery that is constantly running --removing tons of debris.

Total strangers form search teams, which are made up of firefighters, medics, law enforcement officers, college students – even celebrities. At first there is little talk, but it doesn’t take long before they become comrades at arms – joined by this inconceivable moment.

The word around the pile is that another rescue was made today -- three New York firefighters. That boosted morale incredibly, but the cheering was short lived. Crews who witnessed the incident say it was rescuers who were rescued – not firefighters from the initial trade center response.

Here in Church Sector, crews have located a few bodies and several body parts, but the victims are located too deep in the rubble to retrieve. The area is simply marked by placing an orange body bag as close as possible. Rescuers will return when they have the time and resources to bring the lost home. Instead, the focus is on finding survivors rather than collecting remains.
Urban Search and Rescue teams, engineers and cartographers, in cooperation with the Office of Emergency Management, are handing out detailed, ever changing maps to chart areas that have already been searched, and define those to be worked next. These maps also identify the constantly shifting hazards at the site.

Ground Zero is divided into four sectors, each one containing a staging area or Command Post. West sector encompasses the footprint of the North tower and is the official checkpoint into the disaster site. This area leading up to the checkpoint is best described as a flea market, with supply areas set up and managed by unaffiliated volunteers.

Church sector, behind St Paul's Chapel, offers entry from Wall Street. Many of the faith-based support organizations, such as the Salvation Army have pitched their tents here.

Liberty Sector is the command post for the Port Authority Police Department, or PAPD. It is a focal point for those who are attempting to recover PAPD officers and civilians.


We’re approaching the critical 72 hour period -- the time that FEMA experts believe that trapped victims will succumb. Then I remember Bucky Helms – the old guy who was trapped for five days in the I-880 collapse in Oakland following the Loma Prieta quake. He made it, only to die a few weeks later from an unrelated cause.

Within 48 hours Ground Zero hads become a city unto itself. Everything rescuers and volunteers need is provided, including food, clothing, and medical care. This Emergency Village is home, isoltaed from the rest of the world. We never saw newspapers, television, or magazines. We lived in a different place, both physically and mentally, focused on the mission at hand.

Indianapolis Rescue 7 meets FDNY

From Indianapolis, a Marion County USAR safety officer surveys adjacent structures to determine what hazards exist at Ground Zero for rescue and recovery teams. Unbelievably, a 12 story section of the South tower has imbedded itself into the Deutsch Bank Building, 20 stories above the ground. The façade, weighing perhaps 100,000 tons, now hangs precariously above the rescue operation on Church Street. Firefighters nickname this obstacle "The Widow Maker." They also ignore it the damn thing.

There is danger all around as another USAR team joins with an FDNY Squad Company to search a VOID that is unearthed by heavy equipment. This tunnel leads down to a parking garage, but the team leader is unwilling to send his crew through such a narrow abyss. He calls for technical support. Using fiber optic cameras and sensitive listening devices, the USAR tech asks for quiet and the 15 member team becomes silent. This unlikely combination of New York and Indy firefighters stand quietly together, sharing a cigarette and a bottle of watter... waiting and hoping for signs of life.

The team leader wants to search deeper, but is still reluctant to assign humans to the task. He calls for a "BattleBot", a remotely controlled robotic device armed with its own camera, mic and light. Within moments, the $20,000 android is making its way deep inside the debris - taking the search to the next level.

Frustration is becoming evident, as is the heartache and helplessness which shows on the faces and echoes in the voices of rescue teams. Though some members of America's USAR teams express feelings of inadequacy and failure -- in truth, it is their most shining moment.

During a break I make my way through the back streets of the financial district to the West Side Highway where Rescuers have taken over bank lobbies, stores and eateries as their own command centers. I come across a huge contingent of law enforcement officers from communities throughout the East Coast. They're working their own pile - and labor relentlessly in an area where many Port Authority police officers are reported to be missing.

With 5-gallon buckets in hand, they form two endless lines, moving debris from atop "the pile" to the perimeter area for removal. Even though there are several thousand working here - the area is QUIET. Dead quiet. Determination and resolve is the focus of their mission, as they work tirelessly to accomplish the unspoken goal. Unrealistic? Maybe. Without merit? Never! Police officers staff this line 24 hours a day - and 16 days later - when I finally leave Ground Zero – I knowthat the image of their task will be etched in my mind forever.

A Sad Discovery

A Battalion's aide calls our team to the front -- we move further into the pit, about 200 yards from the nearest street. We're now working in an area where one of the Search and Rescue dogs has marked a find. With most us kneeling, the routine becomes more familiar. Untwist the aluminum and sheet metal, move it aside, then scoop debris from under the girders, sifting it through our hands.

Across from me is a husky volunteer fireman from Freeport, Long Island. He pauses for a few moments, wipes the sweat from his eyes, and stretches his right knee. Something catches his attention. He looks down, shines his light into the hole - then does a double take. He lunges for the ground and begins burrowing like a crazed groundhog. The team quickly gathers around him. As he removes debris, the others move it further aside. There is hustle in their work.

"What is it bro?" comes a voice belonging to an FDNY truckie. The vollie mumbles, "I'm not really sure...just gotta get a bit deeper." I glance around at the others just in time to see horror on their faces. "My God," someone says. "It's a Scott bottle!"

A Battalion Chief quickly pushes his way to the front of the line, standing over the Freeport firefighter like an umpire huddles the catcher. The hope is that there's more to find than a steel cylinder. There is. It's a turnout coat. The dig becomes less frantic, more delicate, but with the same hustle that had been previosuly displayed.

Digging with his bare hands, the vollie slowly uncovers the FDNY reflective letters. Then a hand painted "E4" on the compressed air bottle is revealed. Finally, as they uncover the tail of the black coat they can make out the name. The team carefully removes the body. The firefighter's SCBA mask is damaged, but it protected his facial features. The white frontice on his helmet indicates that he was the company officer.

"Chief, think his crew was with him?" I ask the BC. "They were with him alright," the Commander replies proudly. "I bet they were right on his ass." Let's keep searching here!

A firefighter arrives from an adjacent dig. He reaches into his turnout coat and places the white collar around his neck, atop the blue FDNY workshirt. It is followed by the ceremonial sash that priests wear when they give a sacrament. The vollie is the first to remove his helmet, and the rest of us follow suit, our heads bowed.

"Through this holy unction and His own most tender mercy may the Lord pardon thee whatever sins or faults thou hast committed... " As the prayer continues, the chaplain carefully removes the Lieutenant's face piece to anoint his eyes, nose and throat. The others simply stand there looking on. I can't imagine what's going through their minds.

Lying on the ground is a man that no one here had ever met, yet we all feel a direct connection to his spirit. No one in the group is spared the tears -- not the Battalion, not the vollie, not even the rough and ready truckie.

We won't be moving this hero to the sidelines. That's the job of the FDNY. The emotion shows on every face as a group of 8 retired firefighters climb down to our location. Nearby firefighters join us in this holy place, and say a silent prayer. Everyone here stands in honor as one of the bravest leaves the firescene for the last time.

Then, drawing strength from one another, everyone moves slowly away to continue the search for another soul in another place.

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