NYC
October 2001
The Federal Response Plan tasks the National
Disaster Medical System (NDMS) to provide assistance in assessing the
extent of disruption and need for services following major disasters or
emergencies. Included in
the NDMS are Disaster Medical Assistance Teams (DMAT), Disaster Mortuary
Operational Response Teams (DMORT), and Veterinary Medical Assistance
Teams (VMAT).
Following the WTC disaster on September 11, federal
Search and Rescue (SAR) dog teams were brought in, and VMATs were
brought in to support those SAR dogs as well as assess and assist the
local veterinary infrastructure.
When the NDMS is activated, there is also a
Management Support Team (MST) to support the units in the field. There is usually a VMAT member in the MST; that was my task
October 20-31.
We were situated in a Manhattan hotel approx. 5
miles from “Ground 0”, and even though the federal SAR dog teams had
been sent home earlier, there were things to do.
There are still dogs on the site, however these are
NYPD K-9 Units. There is a
makeshift veterinary clinic set up in the police station, staffed by
local (volunteer) veterinarians and supported by the Suffolk County VMA.
I would visit the volunteer veterinarians periodically to see if
there was anything they needed.
Driving to the site was pretty cool as the city set
up special lanes for disaster workers; we could drive 60 mph and bust
through red lights. If
you’ve ever driven in NYC you can imagine what a boon that was.
If you haven’t, I can just say that it could easily take 30
minutes to go 5 blocks in rush hour traffic, which can run from 7AM to
6PM!
Along this route, which is the main in/out of the
site, there is a band of people with cards, signs, flowers, waving the
flag and cheering the workers on as they enter and leave the sight.
They are there every day, seemingly around the clock, rain or
shine, shouting and cheering as we pass.
There is not one day—or night, once well after midnight—that
I passed where there were no fewer than 4-5 cheering folks there, and
often times as many as 10-12 were there.
DMATs are set up on the site, and patients are
transported to a local hospital if needed.
One morning I received a call from a DMAT Dr. at the site.
There was a worker who found an injured bird—poss. dove or
pigeon; the worker would not let them take the bird or put it to sleep.
“I found something alive…” is what he kept saying, and
wanted veterinary care. This is reflects the heightened emotional state of many of
the workers at the site. Carol
from Mental Health also suggested a referral to Mental Health might be
in order.
And then there were the real veterinary issues.
I received a call from Sen. Clinton’s office one morning.
Jane Goodall has a program and lectures to schoolchildren about
the uses/value of animals and this time wants to focus on the SAR dogs.
She called to ask for some canine booties.
I acquired some, compliments of MST and VMAT; and they were
picked up at the MST. I did
not get to meet H., but her aide, Christine said thanks.
Here’s another.
I had received a note about a girl staying at the Waldorf Astoria
Hotel in NYC who had raised enough money to buy 100’s of lbs. of doggy
treats for the rescue dogs. I
tracked her down; her name is Arielle Tritt, a 7-yr-old from Eugene, OR. She raised enough money to buy the treats and she and her mom
flew to NY to be on “Good Morning America” and hopefully meet some
of the rescue workers. Every
penny was budgeted; even the taxi rides into NY for the TV show.
Well, “GMA” stood them up.
She was on “Rosie”, however.
I did not see it. She was calling around to find out what she could do w/the
donations she bought w/her so diligently-raised funds.
Somehow, the contact came to me.
While at the NYPD K9 unit, I hooked her up with
Gene Desantes, Suffolk Co. SPCA who was willing to take the donations.
Then I hooked her up w/Officer John Figueroa, NYPD Canine Unit;
he called his commander, and they arranged for her to come down to the
station and see some dogs. Great
kid; great story. That was
my good deed for the day. |
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Part 2—
There are a ton of volunteers here, as well as all
the city, state, and federal people.
The emergency FEMA office takes up the entire upstairs of one of
the huge pier warehouses along the Hudson River.
In another warehouse at Pier 94, the Red Cross has set up the
Family Assistance Center—a huge complex of every type of service one
could imagine, and many more you would never think of.
All of the volunteers seem very up, and very appreciative. Every time I say, “Thank you” or “You’re doing a
great job,” to any of the volunteers, I always hear, “No, thank
YOU!”
The relief efforts are ongoing. There are multiple Red Cross aid stations set up around the
site for the rescue workers. More
are set up around the ME’s office where there are makeshift tents to
aid in the processing of all the recovered parts.
At these aid stations there is hot food, rest areas with
televisions, cots, and even massage stations—all provided free by the
volunteer organizations and community members.
There's one restaurant, on Canal Street, just north
of the site, called “Nino's”. They
are closed to the public—and have been since 9/11—but have been
serving great, hot food free to volunteers 24hrs/day!
They have BBQ chicken, lemon chicken, meatballs, pasta, lasagna,
salad, and on and on. They
were just featured on “60 Minutes” last weekend.
This is just one of the examples of the support and volunteerism
so prevalent in this city.
I went to the ME’s office on day w/the DMORT
team. The ME’s office was
very appreciative of the DMORT’s help.
I did not tour the facility but walked around outside where there
are volunteer tents set up offering rest, TV, free massage, lots of
good, hot food, etc. There
is a “memorial garden” where there are ~16-20 large, semi, reefer
trailers to hold the bodies/parts.
They’re all lined up in two rows, w/flower pots lining either
side. Two are reserved for
in-service members; they really do take care of their own.
There is a wall there with slogans, prayers, and names and photos
of lost service men. Very
touching.
I also visited the landfill at Staten Island.
Another amazing site; all of the debris and rubble are loaded
onto dump trucks at ground 0; then the trucks are driven onto barges
where they are taken across the Hudson to the landfill.
There, more workers sift through the rubble again, by hand,
looking for recoveries. The
smell is horrific; it is cold and windy, but they’re out there 24
hours a day!
At the entrance of the landfill, there was lone
lady, standing there at her parked car with an American flag, waving it,
greeting the workers every day. I
stopped and spoke w/her, and took her picture.
She gave me a poem:
You came to help from
far and near
To work so hard and shed a tear
No other heroes stand as tall
With all our hearts we thank you all.
God bless you.
It was reported that the wife of a passenger
on one of the AA flights committed suicide.
Mental Health reminded us that post-disasters, as support
diminishes, there will be an increase in mental health problems,
depression, substance abuse, suicides, etc.
Esp. w/9/11, as holidays approach, many say, “I can’t think
about it now.” And then,
as they get closer, be on the look out for many more problems this
holiday season. |
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A Day in NYC—
It is pretty easy to get around this town.
The downtown area of Manhattan is simply laid out; the Avenues
from 1st thru 11th run north-south, with 1st
on the east side by the East River, and the 11th to the west
along the Hudson. Numbered
streets run east west, ever increasing as one travels north.
My hotel is on 7th Ave. and 53rd
St. One block east is 6th,
or Avenue of the Americas; Broadway runs north south, slightly at an
angle, from 6th to the south and 8th to the north.
Where it crosses 7th, 11 blocks to the south of the
hotel is Times Square, with its moving neon imagery, shops, street
vendors, restaurants, and diners—and people, lots of people, cars,
taxis, and noise. Between
me and Times Square is the Theater District, with it’s multitude of
plays, marquis, signs, and bigger-than-life advertisements—and people,
lots of people, cars, taxis, and noise.
On one street there was a large, 1”, metal plate in the middle
of the road, and it would make a terrible, loud “clank” as every
car, truck, taxi passed over it. There
are over 43 theaters within about 10 blocks.
And don’t even ask me what the terms “Broadway” vs. “Off
Broadway” mean. Someone
just tried to explain how “Off Broadway” might apply to a play in a
small theater literally off of Broadway or to an older, long-running
play, still playing in a theater ON Broadway.
Of course, for my simple, plebeian mind, this is much too
complicated and cumbersome. For
a real New Yorker, I’m sure it’s as simple as A-B-C (or the true
meaning of life; just ask one! And
speaking of ABC’s, the plays run the gamut, from “Aida” at the
Palace, to “Women” at the American Airlines Theater; from “Mamma
Mia!” with the music of “Abba” to “The Producers”, who’s
next tickets are not available until May or June (depending on the seats
you may want—seven months into the future!).
One can create a story with just some of the
titles:
“Hello Muddah, Hello
Faddah”,
I am fine; how are you?
I love it here in New York City!
“45 Seconds from Broadway” one can watch the “Beauty
and the Beast” “Stomp” “The Women” all the way to “Urinetown”,
while the “Producers” expose their “Full Monty”s
and the “Lion King”s “Les Miserables”, those poor
bastards now royalty. And
the “Noises Off” “42nd Street” are so loud,
that, “By Jeeves”, I swear the “Phantom of the Opera”
will “Contact” the noise makers and say ‘“Mamma Mia”
that’s’ too loud; “Thou Shalt Not” make the “Music,
Man”!’ Meanwhile,
there is a “Sexaholic” from “Chicago”, performing
such acts as the “Dance of Death” as she “Eat(s) the
Runt” at a local “Cabaret”.
It is so violent and repugnant, the “Rent” has gone
from “Under the Lintel” to through the roof!
She is pregnant now; some say it is a “Sexaholic…Love
Story”, but I think it’s “An Immaculate Misconception”!
Now it’s “Forbidden (on) Broadway”, but there
are still “Naked Boys Singing” and, of course, “The
Donkey Show”. Did you
ever find “Our Sinatra”?
The cops think he was “Murdered by the Mob”, but I
think they’re “Making Much Ado about Nothing”.
Maybe he was just lost on a drinking binge or “Reefer
Madness”. Well,
that’s all for now.
“I Love You, You’re
Perfect, Now Change”.
Your son.
Anyway, I’m sure there are a lot more stories on
Broadway…
Walking just five blocks north, passing banks, more
shops, restaurants, the Trump Plaza, the old, glorious, Plaza
Hotel—and people, lots of people, cars, taxis, and noise—you cross
the street and enter Central Park.
It is only 3 blocks wide, but almost 4 km (maybe ~2 miles) long,
bounded by 59th on the south (now Central Park South),
Central Park West (8th Ave.), (Central Park North (110th),
and 5th Ave. (Now
why they didn’t name that section of 5th Ave. “Central
Park East” I’ll never know. Maybe
someone can explain that one to me!)
The park is a nice and interesting respite in
the midst of Manhattan. In
the city there are people dressed in business attire, going out evening
wear, black, leather coats, taxis, cars, and more limos than you could
count—and people, lots more people, cars, taxis, and noise.
And there are the homeless, sleeping in the shadows, on benches,
on sidewalks, in doorways and alleyways.
In the sanctity of the park, you feel miles
away from the bustling city and noise
(Although, if you listen, it is never far away; after all, all of
Manhattan is only ~2 miles wide!) There
you see walkers, joggers, cyclists, cross-country skiers riding on
special, ski-like skate boards, one on each foot, and long
street-adapted “ski poles” to assist in their forward propulsion;
couples walking arm in arm, both young and not so young; children
playing baseball, soccer, or Frisbee w/their dogs. And dogs—there are lots of dogs, apparently, in the city;
and you see many people walking their dogs in the Park—big ones, small
ones, tall ones, short ones, black ones, brown, ones, crazy ones; out of
the middle, came a lady… Oh,
wrong story. Anyway, there
are a few street artists, musicians, sketch artists who will draw your
face, for a fee. Occasionally
you see homeless sleeping on the rocks, on benches, under the
bridges—and squirrels, lots and lots of squirrels.
And, of course, circling the park, horse-drawn carriages, with
their fine steeds, top-hatted drivers, and patrons bundled in warm
blankets. It is a clear
day, sunny, but blustery; you can feel winter is coming, but not quite
yet. There is a small zoo
in Central Park, and a children’s petting zoo (only $3.50 admission
for both). And a neat clock
on an archway with bronze animal statues around the base.
Who would have thought you’d find grass, ponds, zoos—in the
middle of NYC!
As you walk on in the park, you find there
are ponds and lakes. Beautiful,
calm, serene water. They
say don’t walk alone in the park; in fact don’t walk alone in the
city! Well, it really
doesn’t seem that bad. You
see lots of people alone, walking, jogging, mothers with babies, tall
ones, short ones… So, it
must be safe, eh? This
afternoon, I was walking along a paved path up a mild slope, other
people walking up and down. Then
I came to a dirt path towards my left.
So, you know the “rule”—“the path less traveled”.
Well, I took it. Ahead,
through the trees, I could see the tall buildings to the west of the
park. Dusk was approaching.
I passed a guy, then another.
I could see a beautiful pond coming up on my right, and I
proceeded, thinking it would come back out to a major trail.
There was a fella walking ahead of me, and I passed another, and
another. To my right there
was an opening through the trees, and across the pond I could see a
beautiful, arched bridge—and another guy, and another.
I wanted to take a picture, but realized something.
There were no women on this trail; no couples, just men—more
and more men—standing, walking, smoking, watching.
Well, I figured out PDQ what was going on and I surely didn’t
want to bend over to take a picture, and decided to get on down the
trail, back to civilization! So,
I walked on. It was getting darker. I
walked—a bit faster now. And
on, and faster, men in front of me, men behind me, men on either side;
and then—the trail ended... on the water.
It was a dead end! A
cul-de-sac! A blind alley! The end of the road! Well,
what could I do? I had no
option. So, I turned and
said, “Hi fellas. Does
anyone know how to get three guys on a stool?
Turn it over!” Yeah,
right! No, I just turned
around, and started walking, and walking, and looking only straight
ahead. And then…
and then… and then
I was out—back to civilization; and the straight world. Hallelujah! Or,
was I just imagining things???
Well, another two blocks, and back to the
safe, real world, people dressed in business attire, going-out evening
wear, black, leather coats, taxis, cars, and more limos than you could
count—and people, lots more people, cars, taxis, and noise.
Today there is a street fair in front of the
hotel—7th Ave. is shut down from Central Park to Times
Square. What an opportunity! Now
one can find anything from $10 Rolexes, to fine Russian dolls, Indian
Jade elephants, fine crystal figures, hand-woven sweaters, and
jackets… And food.
And people, lots of people, cars, taxis, and noise.
Gee, it’s even bigger and better than the entire shopping
district in Tijuana!
Well, that’s it for now.
I trust you are well and taking things in stride.
Remember, if you are letting fear overtake your normal lifestyle,
then you are allowing them to win.
Be well, be strong.
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