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Waiting for the Call: The September Eleventh Disaster

It smelled the same as war. It looked theat cost with no labor for the printing that
same as war. Grant Coates, the vice presidentwould identify them as sheriff's deputies. A
of VVA's New York State Council, thought thedrug manufacturing company gave $4,000 in
memory of it might have been one of the goodsupplies, masks, and other equipment. Kaye's
things he brought back from Vietnam. "Beenco-workers made cookies for the deputies to
there,  done  that,"  he  thought.share onboard the ship on which they would be
bivouacked.
He knew the physics of war's destruction,
recognized its immutable laws. He'd been in"One of the ladies who made apple brownies
combat with the Army Rangers. He'd been alost her son in the Beirut Marine barracks
tracker, working with a Labrador retriever toattack," Kaye wrote to The VVA Veteran editor
find theenemy when contact broke off. HeMokie Porter. "He was her only son. She said
built a civilian career as a police officer`God bless them for helping.' Another lady I
and worked K-9 there, too. Now he was retiredwork with, her 10-year-old son is having a
and working part-time for the Delawaretough time. She said he built a tower from
County, New York, sheriff, himself a Vietnambuilding blocks the other day and then flew a
veteran who was in-country about the sameplane around it. He kept trying to figure out
time  Coates  was.how it happened. When she asked him to help
her make the cookies, he wanted to help the
Coates had been around death and violence alldeputies find the people. Pretty special
his adult life. The professions he chose madestuff."
it unavoidable. When the call came on
September 11, instinct and experience fellThe Delaware deputies had not been summoned
into place, and he knew another mission hadto search for survivors. Recovery had
come. He knew what to expect and how toreplaced rescue as the mission. They looked
prepare. He knew it would be nasty. He knewinstead for evidence, combing the great mass
there would be the smell of death in the air.of rubble brought to the Staten Island
landfill. They worked in a cold rain, sifting
He'd been there and done that, 32 years agothe pile for the airplanes' black boxes and
in  another  war.other aircraft parts; looking for body parts,
personal effects, firefighter's hats, police
But the World Trade Center had to be assessedshields, IDs, credit cards--anything
on a heretofore unknown scale. A mountain ofidentifiable.
rubble, 1.2 million tons of it, thick steel
beams twisted like pretzels, thousands of"Two areas, football fields, surrounded by
dead and missing, a range of destruction thatgenerator lights," Coates said. "Each item
dwarfed  those  who  approached  it.was  logged  in."
"When you're talking about something of thisEverywhere they went, the outpouring of aid
magnitude, I don't think they have a thinkfrom civilians amazed them. Cops had much
tank to consider all the logistics," he said.experience with abuse and little with pats on
the back. Crowds were always trouble--until
The first night, as they walked toward GroundSeptember 11, when they became something
Zero, the civilians on the sidewalks watchingdifferent.
them go by checkpoints looked like zombies.
Two blocks away, he saw the pile of rubble"A complete 180," he said. "We train for the
where  the  two  great  buildings once stood.worst; we don't train mentally for people
being nice. The care that total strangers
"You could see the cranes with these giganticgave us, it's not something we're used to in
claws taking the rubble out," he said. "Ilaw  enforcement."
have a picture of three workers walking past
a claw, and this claw, you could probably putPeople sent soap, food, toiletries,
around a dump truck. But from where we were,toothpaste, clothes, boots, shower sandals,
the claws looked like Tonka toys on a beach.gloves, helmets, batteries, and miner's
Unless you were up close, and you could seelights for the helmets. They sent so much the
the size of the claw and the size of the pileworkers on the ground couldn't hand it out
the claw was working on, you didn't get thefast enough. "Everybody was standing up to
perspective  of  how  big  the  pile  was."help  somebody  else,"  Coates  said.
He had been working a private security jobEverywhere they went, it never
for United Way on September 11 and had justchanged--thanks for the help, God bless
checked into a motel when television newsyou--and especially so at the Jesuit retreat
showed the black smoke billowing from thewhere they stayed and met Father Ryan, who
first  tower.gave them not only food and shelter but
healthy  doses  of  wit.
Coates grew up in Manhattan, on the West
Side. He looked at the burning building, and"It was like out of M*A*S*H," Coates said.
the first thing he thought of was the World"The first time I saw him, he was wearing a
War II bomber that crashed into the Empiret-shirt and he had a cigar in his mouth. He'd
State Building long ago. He wondered howpop up at all hours of the night just to see
something like that could happen with today'sif we were okay. He'd say, 'Don't forget the
aviation  equipment.kitchen is always open. No locks on the
doors. If you see something you want, take
Then  the  second  plane  came.it.' He had a salad bar and said, `Now that
will always be full of ice and it will have
"I knew right away we'd be going," he said.juices and water and beer and carafes of
"They  were  going  to  need  our  help."wine, and every now and then I'll come out
with a non-denominational bottle of scotch
A message went out from New York Statefor  you.'"
Emergency Services to the sheriff's office,
the message Coates anticipated after he sawThen it was back into the streets--a gray,
the second plane explode inside the Worldhaunted landscape filled with aching backs,
Trade Center tower. The sheriff turned overskinned knuckles, and exhausted men and women
the  operation's  planning  to  Coates.on  a  mission.
He made calls, interviewed prospective team"We were walking to a Salvation Army feeding
members, and in four hours had assembled anpoint about 7:30 one night," he said. "We
eleven-man squad, many of them part-timersnoticed everything was dead silent. Nobody
who  took time from their regular jobs to go.was talking. The reason was because about a
hundred search-and-rescue people were coming
His wife, Kaye, was on the phone, too. In twodown the street with their dogs, heading into
hours, they had rounded up $4,500 inGround Zero. They were all volunteers.
equipment. A clothing company sold T-shirts



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