Feeling
the emptiness at Ladder Company 3
By
Donna Leinwand, USA TODAY
NEW
YORK — Fire Capt. Patrick Brown and much of his Ladder Company
3 went up the stairs at 1 World Trade Center just as others were
trying to come down. Somewhere around the 35th floor, they radioed
a report of 30-40 severely burned people. A few minutes later,
they shouted "Mayday!" And the tower collapsed. That
was the last anyone heard from 12 men of Ladder Company 3 and
Battalion 6.
The city fire department is missing 343 firefighters after the
terrorist attack. Funerals for six firefighters were held Wednesday.
Company 3 is one of the hardest hit, losing nearly half of its
25 firefighters.
The world of a New York City firefighter is a small one. Everyone
knows everyone else. Many are literally family. They hang out
together and frequent the same bars. Sometimes they live in the
same neighborhoods. Every other day, they live together in the
firehouse — 24 hours on, 24 hours off.
And
so the firehouse — their home — on 13th Street at
the edge of the East Village, feels achingly empty now.
"It's
a family, it's a brotherhood and a sisterhood," says Michael
Dewan, a firefighter from Peabody, Mass., whose uncle, Gerard
Dewan, is among Company 3's missing. The Dewan family has nine
firefighters among four generations. Jerry Dewan always wanted
to be a firefighter.
"He'd
be proud that he died doing what he wanted to do," Michael
Dewan says.
If
a firefighter had died under any other circumstance, the company
would have two weeks off to mourn. Now resources are stretched
thin. The firehouse reopened Sunday night, as soon as the company
was able to replace the truck buried in the Trade Center rubble.
Already, the remaining crew is covering the vacant shifts and
going out on calls.
"Right
now, we need to just stick together and somehow find a way to
come out of this better," Lt. Steve Browne says. His brother,
Capt. Danny Browne, also works at the station. Steve Browne says
he half hopes they'll get a call out. "I want to get that
first one out of the way," he says.
"It's
tough to get back out there," firefighter Chris Tighe says.
"But you feel that the guys that are missing wouldn't want
you to quit."
The
firehouse is legendary, certainly in the neighborhood if not in
the entire city. Everyone knows Patrick "Patty" Brown,
among the most decorated of the city's firefighters.
"Before
I even met him, I learned the legend of Patty Brown. I thought
it was too good to be true," says Steve Browne, who is not
related. "Then I met him and I found out it's all true. You'd
have to meet him. I could take up the whole newspaper telling
you about Patty Brown."
Patrick
Brown's yoga instructor stopped by the station Wednesday with
a big bouquet of flowers and red eyes.
"He
was a very enlightened being," Faith Fennessey says, as she
stands before his photo.
Then
there's Jeff Giordano, selected as New York City's hero of the
month by a local newspaper last October after he and Patty Brown
rescued a woman from a burning building. Giordano and his wife,
a nurse, raised funds tirelessly for the city's burn center.
"The
guy was relentless," Steve Browne says. "He's always
running around doing something for the job."
Firefighter
Tim McSweeney was the guy who organized all the company activities
— the go-to guy on the company picnic or the holiday party."
He was a rock here," Steve Browne says.
Firefighter
Steve Olson had every right to be mad at the world. He lost his
parents and brothers at a young age. Instead, he was the guy with
the ready smile, Steve Browne says.
Lt.
Kevin Donnelly knew the job inside out and lived by a code of
honor that seemed a throwback to a more genteel time.
"He
was a medal winner, but you would never know it because he wouldn't
boast about it," Capt. Danny Browne says.
Joseph
"Jay" Ogren just got married and had recently finished
his probationary period. James "Jimmy" Coyle, 26, an
emergency medical technician, had been the valedictorian of his
class. "He became like our little brother," Steve Browne
says.
Firefighter
Joseph Maloney kept the mood light at the house. Battalion Chief
John Williamson recently transferred to the station. "We
were just getting to know him. We feel like we were ripped off,"
Steve Browne says.
John
McAvoy
knew every nook and cranny of the neighborhood. He constantly
revised the maps and gathered information on changes in every
building. He'd been on the job more than 20 years. "I never
met anyone who was more thorough," Steve Browne says. "He
was always concerned about living up to the tradition. He was
our conscience."
Mike
Carroll was a natural leader who always took the younger guys
under his wing, Steve Browne says. "I can't do these guys
justice."
Neighbors
stop by to hug and thank the men. The neighborhood children have
covered the firehouse walls and all the nearby buildings with
thank you notes. Flowers, candles and rosary beads fill the sidewalk.Deborah
Berg-McCarthy, who lives nearby, says, "We are just wanting
to make it more beautiful so hopefully when the firefighters come
back, they can find some peace."
Children
from a neighborhood day-care program visit the fire station twice
a year. They wear the helmets, climb on the truck and learn when
to dial 911.
"Mommy,
where's all the firemen?" asks Roseaner Grant, 5.
"They're
sick right now," answers Jordette Brandow, who helped arrange
the flowers. "They don't feel like coming out to see people."
The
fire company has established a fund for the families of the firefighters.
Donations can be sent to the Ladder 3 Assistance Fund, 108 E.
13th St., New York, NY 10003.
Back
to John's Home Page