Ground Zero: Firefighter recalls aftermath of 9/11

When Dorothy and her friends enter the Land of Oz, The Wizard of Oz goes from black and white to color. Going to work in the ruins of the World Trade Center was the exact opposite, John Rigolini says. For more than a month, he left the colors of Manhattan behind for a gray hell.

"Everything was covered in dust," said Rigolini, a retired New York City firefighter who lives in Mocksville. "Everything was just gray. We were searching and searching and we could smell the decomposing bodies but we couldn't find anybody, and that was the hardest thing. We weren't finding anything, even though we knew thousands of people were there."

Saturday will be the ninth anniversary of the terrorist attacks on America. Nine isn't that big a number for anniversaries. And on past anniversaries of the attacks, I haven't given it the thought I should. Chatting with Rigolini last week reminded me what a tremendous blow the loss of those nearly 3,000 lives was for our country.

I called him after reading a letter he wrote the Journal about the controversy over building a mosque near Ground Zero. "Imam Feisal Abdul Rauf has a right to build his mosque wherever he wants, but if he wants to heal the wounds of that day, he should consider the feelings of the people who were directly affected by 9/11," he wrote.

People like John Rigolini. Three-hundred-forty-three firefighters were killed on Sept. 11, including several of his friends. "Guys that I knew my whole career, one day they're gone," he said.

Rigolini, 55, who speaks in a Long Island clip, patiently responded to questions I posed in my Southern drawl. On the day the terrorists crashed the jets loaded with passengers into the Twin Towers of the Trade Center, Rigolini was training, having just been promoted to lieutenant the day before. The grandson of a New York City firefighter who was killed in a fire in the 1930s, Rigolini knew he had to respond.

Within a few hours, he and fellow firefighters from his Harlem station house had commandeered a city bus (supervisors wanted engines to stay at the stations) and made their way to the chaos of Ground Zero. By the time they got there, he said, there wasn't that much for them to do because they lacked equipment. The hard work for him came in the days ahead, when he was assigned to search for bodies.

"The search-and-rescue dogs were getting frustrated because they couldn't find anybody," Rigolini said. Their handlers had Rigolini and other firefighters hide so the dogs could find them, he said, "to keep their spirits up so they'd keep working."

At one point, he said, someone asked where all the bodies were. "One of the guys tapped his coat and the dust blew away. "‘That's where they are,' he said. They were just vaporized."

For more than a month, Rigolini said, he searched in vain. Many bodies were never found. Rigolini returned to his regular duties. As a new lieutenant, he was assigned to Engine Company 23 in Manhattan, which had lost all the firefighters working on the day of the attacks.

"You walked into the firehouse, you'd see pictures of those killed, their kids and the rest of their family members," he said. "People were leaving flowers out front. The guys were all quiet. A lot of them were having a hard time."

Rigolini wrestled with guilt at times. "It was hard not being able to find anybody, than to have to look at their families all the time and try to tell them everything was going to be OK when you knew it wasn't going to be. Families who didn't find anybody, they would have funerals with empty coffins."

After injuring his back in an accident on the way to a fire, Rigolini retired on disability in 2003. He and his wife moved their family here because they have friends in the area, and they like the warmer weather and less expensive cost of living.

He misses his fellow firefighters. "It was such a close brotherhood. We stuck together. We always watched each others' backs."

This week, he'll think about his fellow firefighters, including those who died in the attacks. He'll have a quiet Saturday with his family. During the first few anniversaries, he said, he found it hard to watch news clips of the carnage.

"It was tough, it was hard to watch, especially when you saw the families, the mothers and the kids. The last year or so it has become a little easier for me to deal with."

jrailey@wsjournal.com | 727-7357