NEW YORK — Whoever said “never volunteer” has never met a National Guardsman. Or a sailor. Or a Marine.
Air and Army National Guard members, reservists from all the military services and Individual Ready Reservists came to Manhattan in the hours and days after the attack on the towers of the World Trade Center, New York’s “ground zero.”
Many of them got to New York before their guard and reserve units were mobilized.
Senior Airman David Stead, an Air Guardsman from the 109th Airlift Wing in Scotia, N.Y., had just gotten off the phone with his girlfriend, who was supposed to run an errand at the World Trade Center at 8:30 a.m. Sept. 11. When he heard of the attack, he tried to reach her and couldn’t, so he went downtown to look for her.
Stead went to the National Guard Armory in midtown Manhattan, the Park Avenue home of the Army National Guard’s 107th Support Group. He was sent out to ground zero to look for survivors, accompanying the 107th and other military personnel downtown to do anything they could to help.
Later, he learned his girlfriend was all right.
He normally works in avionics guidance control, but here, a person’s job specialty doesn’t matter.
“Everybody does anything they can,” Stead said.
Navy Lt. D.J. Haley, a SEAL and Individual Ready Reservist, was taking a taxi to work when he heard a radio report of the attack.
“I kept thinking, ‘What can I do, what can I do?’ ” Haley said.
The next day he knew. He made his way to the Guard armory to help.
Grim scene at ground zero
Haley and Stead are among scores of guardsmen and reservists who went on their own or were sent to ground zero to support police, fire, rescue and other civilians at a temporary command post at a high school near the World Trade Center.
Military personnel were tasked with everything from sending food and drinks to civilians and military personnel working in the area to guiding traffic to keeping out people who didn’t belong.
Thousands populated ground zero — not just rescue workers but also Red Cross officials, Salvation Army workers and volunteers. Random well-wishers trickled through, carting refreshments for those at work.
Asbestos-suited workers toiled in the heat and breathed through masks, smoke still rising from the rubble. Mud, dust and ash coated everything.
There was a gaping hole in the sky where the twin towers stood. Buildings nearby were damaged and cracked. Windows were blown out in adjacent buildings. From the destruction of the towers, burned and dirty papers lay everywhere, telling of financial executives’ unfinished business. One singed scrap described a financial analyst’s prediction on interest rates.
There seemed an endless sea of rescuers, but few they could reach to rescue. As of Sept. 13, rescuers believed survivors still were trapped. But for the most part, searchers found only body parts.
Waiting ambulances lined the road from the armory to ground zero.
Army National Guard Lt. Janet Erazo, an ordnance officer at 107th Corps Support Group, was on her way to the armory on Park Avenue when the attack came. Manhattanites, who may rarely see uniformed military people, think her an anomaly, she said.
“In half an hour the world changed,” Erazo said. “Now people look at you in a whole new way.”
The proof was in the applause and cheers as Erazo and others from the armory drove a Guard truck to ground zero. New Yorkers held up signs saying “thank you.” A woman cheered and called out, “God bless you.” Well-wishers ran to the truck and offered coffee and bottles of water.
Sgt. Brown takes charge
When he found out his National Guard unit had not been activated for duty, Spc. Callan Duffy left his New Jersey home and headed for Manhattan on his own.
“It’s a nightmare, really,” said Duffy, 38, with B Company, 126th Aviation Battalion, New Jersey National Guard. “There’s no other way to describe it.”
Duffy linked up with former Army Staff Sgt. James Brown, who left the New York National Guard last year but headed to the heart of the city after learning of the attack.
About 11 a.m. Sept. 11, Brown and two others began rounding up the dozens of soldiers, sailors, airmen and Marines roaming the area in search of a place to volunteer. Some were reservists not yet called to act, others active-duty personnel on leave.
Brown said the group, which eventually numbered more than 70 service members, broke into six squads and spread across the most devastated area — the blocks where the World Trade Center once stood.
“All the forces seemed to work perfectly once we set up command and control,” Brown said Sept. 12. “We’re all pulling together to work together.”
Duffy said he and the others all felt a duty to offer help. “We’re all in here together,” he said. “There’s no Army, Navy, Air Force or Marine Corps mentality. We’re using the rank structure, but we don’t care what service anybody’s in.”
Marine 2nd Lt. Adam Shapiro, who attends Boston University Law School, came back to his native New York when he heard the news. He helped organize volunteers who have gathered at an auditorium near ground zero.
They distributed food to emergency personnel and found thousands of clean, dry socks for the civilian firefighters.
One of Shapiro’s jobs included crawling and digging through the rubble. He found no survivors. “I found parts only,” he said.
Reservist’s ‘greatest fear’
Marine Reservists Sgt. Tyrone Walsh and Lance Cpl. Dimtry Petrenko both contacted their unit, the 6th Communications Battalion in Brooklyn, which hadn’t been activated. They showed up in New York, where they’re helping with security and traffic control, but they were effectively leaderless with no on-site commander.
“Improvise, it’s the name of the game,” said Petrenko, a full-time student in Westchester, a New York suburb. “Wherever we’re needed, that’s where we go.”
Walsh spent his first day after the attack helping with medical triage and getting medical supplies to doctors. His sister worked at the World Trade Center. He looked for her as he helped with triage. “My greatest fear was that one of the bodies I saw would be my sister,” he said.
After eight hours, he learned that she had the day off from work.
Times staff writer C. Mark Brinkley contributed to this report.
