Rick Lee’s 9/11 journal

Rick Lee’s 9/11 journal

Chapter 1 – The call we hope to never get

My name is Richard Lee, Fire Captain with the City of Sacramento, California for 21 years. On September 11, 2001, I had been a member of the California Urban Search and Rescue Task Force 7 as a Canine Search Specialist for the past five years. I was dispatched along with Task Force 7 to the World Trade Center disaster and spent eleven days there as part of the rescue efforts. This is my story, my thoughts, and my experiences.

Fire Captain Rick Lee and his Search Dog Ana
Rick Lee and Ana — Photo: Nancy O’Brien

It was September 11th 2001, and I was on shift at City of Sacramento fire station 56 at Franklin Boulevard and 47th Avenue. We had been busy with calls and had been up all night. The last two runs we had been on were an apartment fire and a medical aid. The medical was in the wee hours of the morning and brought the engine company to the hospital because the patient went into cardiac arrest; both firefighters went to the hospital with the medic unit. As I sat in the emergency room waiting for our paramedic to finish his paperwork, a man came running into the emergency room stating that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center building. No one paid any attention to him; it just seemed too unreal. I asked him if he had been watching the science-fiction channel, and he then started screaming, “I really mean it, it’s on the TV in the waiting room!” We went into the waiting room, and sat and watched the first coverage like every other American. We watched the television news reports for approximately 10 minutes before heading back to the station.

After returning to the station, we were advised to not go home as we were on mandatory holdover status. I spoke with Kelly Heavin, USAR Task Force 7 manager and indicated I would be available if they wanted Ana and I to respond with the team. I spoke on the phone with Randy Gross, a friend and another search canine specialist. A short while later, the task force manager returned my call and requested that I go with the team as a canine search specialist even though I was in the process of retiring Ana from search work. The task force was on official stand-by status and was preparing to be activated.

I left work and drove to my home in Elk Grove to gather and prepare Ana and my gear. On my way home, I listened to breaking news of the event on the radio. My wife Luann left her work to meet me at home and assisted me in obtaining gear and personal items for the deployment. I also did a couple of short mock searches with Ana by hiding Luann, then returned to station 56 where everyone was watching the event unfold on television. There I received another phone call informing me that the task force had been activated and I was to head out to the staging area located at the B.T. Collins Center, an area on the Sacramento Army Depot. It was quite organized, I thought.

I drove myself to the Army Depot. To get into the facility where the staging area was located, I first had to get by a military man with an M-16 rifle at the entry gate. He asked me a series of questions and searched my vehicle and items in my vehicle. He even checked the crate Ana was in. I parked my vehicle and checked in with the USAR members. I filled out paperwork along with a lot of other members of the team who were preparing to be deployed. The paperwork was reviewed, and after a short time a list of team members that were to be deployed, and their assignments, was issued.

I was assigned as one of the four canine search specialist positions; I was team member number thirteen of a sixty-four-person team. I then drove over to fire station 9, just down the street where the task force cache is stored, to check in and obtain more gear. I ensured that all my paperwork was in order and answered some questions from the team’s medical doctors. I met Randy Gross and Rob Cima there and we inventoried our gear to assure we had the necessary equipment for the deployment. Numerous media channels were present as well as fire department staff. The logistic team members were assuring the cache was secure and loaded onto the big rigs for transport.

Once everyone was checked in at Station 9, we loaded onto the Regional Transit buses that were going to transport us to Travis Air Force Base (TAFB). I believe we were on the road by 2:00p.m or 3:00p.m. We had numerous law enforcement agencies, city police, county sheriff, and highway patrol that provided an outstanding escort for us en route to the air base.

Once we arrived at Travis, we dropped the cache off at the loading dock so that it could be weighed and checked for loading. It was my first sight of a military C-5 Galaxy aircraft and I thought, “How could that thing get of the ground?” We were shuttled to the terminals for briefing by the fire administration, task force leaders, and the air force officials. We aired the canines and gave them a little exercise and then loaded them onto the aircraft. We were directed to a different loading door than the other members, so the canines could be placed in their crates with the cargo. The canines had to climb a very steep ladder in order to board the aircraft. We sat in small airline type seats that faced backwards, we had no windows to look out of, and it was loud inside the plane. We each had our pack with us, which did not fit under the seats, so we put our feet on them or straddled them.

Throughout the flight I noticed team members going over the list of jobs skills with each other. Some of the members slept and others, like myself, just couldn’t. One of the guys was using his laptop computer to obtain information on our destination and the weather. It was really difficult to talk because of the noise inside the compartment. The loadmaster allowed us to go down to the cargo area to water and exercise the canines whenever we needed. Twice we went down to check on the canines, to give them water, and to let them out of the crates. We made good time in the air, the pilot moving at the maximum air speed with a 45-knot tail wind.

We arrived at McGuire Air Force Base in New Jersey by 12:00 a.m., Pacific Standard Time. We had been told that we had four military F-16 fighter jets escort our aircraft across the states. This had never been done before except for the President of the United States. The military felt that our plane was a target considering we were the only civilians in the air after the airports were closed. At that time, we did not know that the airports were shut down.

Since the time of our deployment, we had been cut off from any media coverage of the incident and what the country was doing or preparing to do. It was as if we were the only ones around; I saw no one else but the military personnel assisting us in unloading after landing. They were heavily armed. The canine teams were placed into a separate bus—it must have been base policy because they were so used to dealing with military attack canines. It was 3:00 a.m. east coast time and we headed to the barracks for sleeping arrangements. At the barracks, military staff briefed us on the current high alert status the base was operating under. They advised us not to roam about the base and to always have identification and a partner with us. Rob Cima and I paired up that night. It wasn’t as bad as holding hands, but close to it–anytime one of us wanted to exit the barracks, we had to find a buddy. I believe we had to be ready by 7:00a.m. (Oh boy, 2 hours sleep in two days). Rob, Harley and Ana fell asleep right away. Rob somehow got the bed—rank, I guess. I tried to figure out how to assemble a military cot.

We all met for breakfast in the base’s mess hall and I then worked on some obedience training with Ana. I also did some search work with Rob and Randy on the barracks grounds near the buildings. The canines’ alerts woke up the military personnel in the base housing which we thought was vacant.

Later in the day, after the other two California USAR task forces arrived (LA city and Riverside), we were told that we were to prepare for the journey to New York. We then released our rooms to the other task forces. It was later discovered that we were not leaving just yet and we were then out a room, but they did offer to let us share the rooms.

After what seemed to be a long wait, we finally were able to obtain chartered buses for transportation to New York City. We had a very impressive police escort. Everyone was enjoying the beautiful scenery along the New Jersey Turnpike. Ana slept all the way to New York. It was when the New York City skyline came into view that someone said “There it is.” You could have heard a pin drop in that bus. The skyscrapers rose above everything else, but so did the plume of smoke. I think it finally hit everyone why we were there.

We never did get close enough to Ground Zero on our initial trip in, but we could sense it and smell it (the smoke). It was a long ride through the streets of New York. At times people would look at us like they were trying to figure out who we were. Then they began to put it all together, that we were rescue teams in the bus, and they would cheer or wave at us. We arrived at the Javitz Convention Center, approximately 20 blocks from Ground Zero, to unload our gear and set up; however, we would rather have gone straight to work at Ground Zero.

Chapter 2 – Setting up the base of operations

At the convention center we claimed upper level floor area in a huge open space at the rear near the loading dock. There were already task force teams present from other states that had set up their Base of Operation (BOO). We all helped set up our Base of Operation. We set up near Indiana and Massachusetts. Riverside task force was next to Los Angeles and us across the walkway. Each of the specialized units of the team was housed together in a tent, i.e. the HazMat persons were together, the search managers were together, the canines together, etc. Each tent was for four team members: two sleeping while the other two were on duty. The tents were so close together that they were touching—and often overlapping—each other. Our personal gear had to be placed outside the tent. Randy Gross and I were teamed up and assigned to the Gray Team (graveyard shift). Rob Cima and Teresa Ortenburger were assigned to the Gray Team (day shift). Each shift worked twelve hours a day.

The canines had a nice area near the front of the BOO where their kennels were located. We also had a very small outside area in front of the center (an area of weeds) to air the canines within the outside perimeter of the center. We had to go through two security checks to air the canines. The canines remained in the kennels unless we were checking on them, taking them outside to air, or exercising them.

I was not sure how I was going to adjust my body, my schedule, and my canine for the graveyard shift work. Somehow I did manage to make it work; however, it was difficult to sleep because of all of the activity going on in the convention center. There was a security check to get past the outer perimeter of the convention center, another security check to get into the center itself, and yet another check to get to the center’s upper level where our BOO was situated.

The convention center was a mini-city that ran 24 hours per day. The wall that separated us from noise and the neighboring task force was a drape. There were trucks coming in and going out, forklifts running equipment back and forth, personnel walking and talking all around us, and the lights remained on all day. Thank God Randy didn’t snore because I would have not slept at all! I only got a couple hours of sleep each day. I’m not sure why, maybe my internal clock was off or I just had too much to think about. I believe I fell asleep by exhaustion. I never took any medication to help me sleep even though it was offered and available by our doctors on the team.

At some point later on, someone made a banner out of paper as a memorial for FDNY firefighters. Every task force there had some kind of banner hanging at their makeshift city. Our banner hung at the front entrance to our BOO. Some of the movie stars that visited us signed it as well as all of our Task Force members. Our logistics guys hung an American flag from the ceiling and illuminated it with a light. It was our home, so we tried to make it comfortable.

There were two veterinarians who manned a 24-hour veterinary clinic that had been set up at the convention center. The vet clinic had canine items, which had been donated and were available to us free, if needed. After each shift, I bathed Ana and took her to the vet clinic for a check-up.

Although I took several days’ worth of food for Ana, I needed to get more food, and we were told that our stay could extend beyond two weeks. Locating and obtaining the special food for the dogs was not easy. No way was I going to let word get out that we needed canine food because someone had already made that mistake asking for canine booties. Hundreds of booties were shipped to New York City, which were never used. I had an employee of the Javitz Center help me locate a store to purchase the food. During that time, a reporter from Extra television program asked if she could interview me, and I agreed she could after I located a store where I could purchase food. I got a phone book and located a pet store nearby. Randy and I had Salvage—a logistics specialist—drive us down to the pet store in one of the vehicles we brought with us on the plane from California. We drove with our red lights on because all the emergency vehicles had their red lights on all the time throughout the city in order to maneuver in traffic. When I returned, the interview took place outside in front of the Javitz Center.

We had movie and television stars drop in at the Javitz center in groups and individually. We had no idea they were coming to visit us. They would just show up to thank us and talk about whatever we wanted. I believe it was set up to get our minds off the daily work at Ground Zero. We also had a visit from President Bush, Governor Pitaki, Mayor Giuliani, and Senator Clinton at the center. We were sleeping and were awakened because the President was coming to greet the task forces. We went from the sleeping bag right to lining up to await his arrival. Ana and I headed to the line and they wanted us close to the front, so Randy and Dusty lined up next to me. We waited close to an hour for the President to arrive. He greeted our task force first. There was no media present and he was dressed down. I believe no one knew he was there but us. As he walked up to Randy and I, Ana and Dusty lunged forward in an effort to get some attention also. The President then petted the canines for a minute and thanked us for our efforts at Ground Zero. After he had passed, we were off to gear up for another twelve hour shift. We were told that the President was going to address the families of the fallen firefighters after meeting with the task forces.

The media at times were allowed to interview task force members and walk around the convention center. The canines received an overwhelming amount of attention from the media. Randy had a lot of interviews that were set up by FEMA’s public information officer. I had a couple of interviewers who caught me walking around the center. It was hard to talk to them about what we were doing or what Ground Zero was like, so I did few interviews. The task force saw no media coverage of its efforts at Ground Zero because the media was not allowed inside the Ground Zero perimeter during our time at the incident. The horrific memories will last a lifetime.

FEMA set up an area with phones (free of charge), massage area, and food which was available from a café in the convention center (FEMA later brought in a food trailer service…let’s just say it wasn’t cafe food). I tried to call home once a day, but it took timing because of the graveyard shift schedule; I couldn’t call after shift because of the time difference. Instead, I would attend to Ana’s needs by bathing her and getting a vet check. I would shower, eat and get the gear ready for the next shift and go to bed. After getting up, I was rushed to both feed Ana and check her. I had to recheck my gear and eat a meal before each briefing. Ana had her own security ID badge. The perimeter around the convention center was highly secured by NYPD, U.S. Army, U.S. Marshals, and NY State Troopers. Our identification changed often to maintain security. We were checked going up and down the stairs, exiting the building, and getting through the exterior perimeter.

Volunteers in the Javitz Center had put a makeshift store together. All the items that were donated were organized in a large hallway. It had everything from socks to toothbrushes. It really was convenient when we needed something or found we had forgotten something. I had been wearing my safety boots all day because I had not brought any other shoes, so I picked up some tennis shoes. Later in the week, near our BOO, an area was set up with all kinds of snacks and food that was available at any time.

Chapter 3 – My first sight of Ground Zero

We usually left the convention center at about 1700 hours to head out to Ground Zero. I would have to make sure that all my gear was ready. This included Ana and her needs. I was always ready to go and never late getting out to the bus. The buses were staged just out the back door at the loading dock. We rode on chartered buses with a highly armed escort in front. I was always on the left side and in the middle by the aisle. It was the side that the New Yorkers—24 hours a day—would be there cheering, clapping, and holding signs to boost morale for us. Every day in and every day out of Ground Zero they were there. It was as if they saw their favorite movie star. On our bus windows, with white shoe polish, we wrote “Sacramento, CA USAR Task Force 7, Local 522, Firefighters”. Why? To let New York know that California firefighters were there to help in the rescue mission. The walls of buildings were plastered with flyers of the missing. It was as if we needed to pass them in order to keep up our morale and motivation, so that we could find them all alive. But the families had no idea what Ground Zero looked like and we were about to find out.

As we moved closer to Ground Zero, colors slowly faded to black and white. Dust covered everything in sight. All aspects of life as we know it were changed to empty streets, abandoned vehicles and empty stores. With the exception of police and firefighters it was like driving through a dark ghost town. There were vehicles everywhere, and the street access was narrow, which made it difficult for the buses to maneuver. Finally the bus could not make the turns, so we exited and I took my first steps toward Ground Zero. The ground must have had six inches of dust and paper on it. We couldn’t put anything down without getting it soiled. I did not want Ana sitting or laying in the dust. I had her stand and wait as I donned my gear in preparation to walk the rest of the way. Even the air was filled with dust as I tried to figure out how long the canines could breathe this stuff. We walked where once hundreds of New Yorkers walked every day, but there were only thirty-two of us. We passed over Church Street, on which the World Trade Center Plaza borders, but I must have been looking the other way. It was dark, dusty, and smoky, so it was hard to see anything. We were heading to a vacant parking garage under a high-rise building that was on the north edge of Ground Zero.

My attention was drawn toward the next intersection because it was lit up like daylight. As we rounded the corner, there it was: billowing smoke issuing from a collapsed building on the edge of the World Trade Center perimeter. It was Building 7, and a stone’s throw from our staging area. Several stories high, the exterior wall was laying at about thirty degrees with window frames clear as day. Other than the wall it was all twisted steel that was so compressed I could not imagine how anyone could still be alive, but there are always void spaces and we had hope. There were rescuers and equipment working the debris at that time. There was a transit bus on the street that was completely crushed as well as other vehicles. Most vehicles had been piled on top of each other to somewhat clear the streets.

We got settled in our second home. It was dark, cold, dusty and noisy. Trucks roared by every minute hauling debris away from the collapsed Building 7 which was just around the corner. That pile was enormously high. I think it was the 47-story building that collapsed—we were told about it in a mid-flight briefing on the way to New York. One could spend all day just staring at the rubble in amazement. I was just happy to be alive at this point.

Randy and I walked the canines around the area as the task force leader and squad leaders did recon. I saw some FDNY firefighters talking in a group. I talked to them for a bit to let them know I was sorry for their loss and we were there to help. We could tell that they were exhausted and they welcomed our help. As Randy and I stood there, a rescuer that was working on Building 7 around the corner stated they needed the canines. We then contacted our Search Manager, Dave, who was with the recon team. Dave stated it was clear to search the area as requested and he was on his way over to our location. We searched beneath the exterior wall in order to get deep into the debris.

When the canines were searching, it became quiet. I looked around and all of the rescuers were watching us work the canines. It was as if someone turned off the sound. I think Randy and I realized this is where all that training would pay off and that it was time to go to work. Randy and Dusty searched first and then Ana and I searched. Dusty did well covering under the exterior wall. Ana had made her way through the debris so deep through holes and into voids that she could not find her way out. It seemed as if she was gone for several minutes. She then popped out as if to say, “What do you want?” Since Randy and I felt the canines had covered the area well, we reported no alerts and that we were sorry. They thanked us for working the canines and we returned to the staging area around the corner.

Within an hour of that search, Randy came over to me and wanted to show me something, and we headed back towards the area we had just searched. As we rounded the comer, I was as amazed as Randy had been. Where there was just a brief time ago an active search teeming with workers, there were now no rescuers, no equipment, and the lights were turned off. It was now another dark street comer in New York. All the efforts of those before us put to a stop because of our search results, no live finds. It was as if God had spoken. It was what we had preached to others—that the canine could cover an area to determine if any live people are there; if none, the rescuers could concentrate on other areas. We never thought we had so much responsibility until now. This search broke the ice for us and gave us trust in our canines and ourselves. It was time to go to work and take care of business. That one search gave Randy and I the motivation, the spirit and the confidence we needed to go to work on this incident. We headed back to staging strong and confident, as we both were eager for the next mission. That episode will always be with me.

During our searches, Ana and Dusty traversed the twisted steel and metal with great skill and agility. We had trouble keeping watch on the canines because we were always looking down to check our footing. The pile had so many void spaces that it was like walking on a high wire. For safety purposes, it was decided that for each team, when one of us wasn’t searching, the other one would become a second lookout along with the search team manager, Dave.

Initially, we spent a lot of time in staging, waiting for work and waiting for the recon team to find an assignment through the command center. Since the canines were part of the recon team, we usually would go along because the incident was so large. As we walked, I didn’t even keep track of the time. I did not realize we were walking for hours at a time. We would be passed by FDNY firefighters that were just totally exhausted, but looking for an assignment. Sometimes they would express thanks. Other times they would stare at us because of our search uniform, knot turnouts and a helmet. I think we expected them to know who we were, but we soon found out differently. Apparently, they thought we were federal government employees rather than firefighters. We then made sure we let them know that we were paid professional firefighters from Sacramento, California. As the days went on, the FDNY firefighters began to open up to us and began petting the canines.

As we walked Ground Zero during search missions, the destruction was endless. The streets were littered with paper and a thick layer of dust. The fire escapes on surrounding buildings were full of debris and the building walls were covered in a layer of dust. The trees were stripped of their leaves and their branches held pieces of paper like ornaments. Windows were blown out and walls had massive holes in them. I felt like we were a military platoon moving through the streets of Europe during World War II. The devastation was never-ending, block after block. The massive pile of steel and metal landscaped the site of Ground Zero, as did equipment and rescuers. Yet, our team was neither overpowered nor held back by the display of destruction during our search missions.

As we threaded our way through the streets, the FDNY firefighters we passed all had that look of despair on their faces. They would sometimes stop briefly to pet Ana as we passed or just nod their heads acknowledging our presence. One of the most difficult scenes was coming across fire equipment that had been destroyed by the collapse. It was hard not to wonder what those firefighters had gone through during the collapse. The damage itself told the devastating story of what had happened. The equipment was crushed, twisted, bent, torn as if it was merely a toy. Some of it bore the scars of burning. The engine and truck cab doors and compartment doors were bowed outward and equipment was hanging out of them. They were completely covered with dust and some had writing on them by fellow comrades as a memorial statement or identifying the company members. It is difficult to write about something that is so close to home. We saw numerous pieces of equipment in this state throughout the devastation.

I distinctly remember walking along with some firefighters and we passed by a fire engine still in its staging position from when the incident unfolded. It sat undamaged because the high-rise building had protected it during the collapse. As I slowed to stare, I wondered if those firefighters were safe and untouched like their apparatus. The firefighter I was walking with cut away from me and headed over to the engine. He opened the door, paused to look at the crew tag, and then shut it. As he returned to me, he said, “They’re all dead.”

It seemed like every minute at Ground Zero was overwhelming, whether it was the sight of the destruction or even a mere comment. I witnessed the Life at Ground Zero as heartbreaking, stressful, horrific, and devastating and it displayed the most difficult challenges for rescuers. However, hope, motivation, honor, and bravery are the factors that nourished the rescuers to overcome the Life at Ground Zero. The buildings had been leveled to twisted steel and metal. The concrete had turned to dust. We saw no intact concrete except floors below grade that were collapsed due to weight. Two 110-story buildings full of furnishings, yet we saw not one piece of it. Paper, dust, and twisted steel dominated the landscape of Ground Zero.

Chapter 4 – The hardest decision of all

Search Dog Ana at full speed
Ana running — Photo: Chris Cantle

I felt as if we would be able to perform as we did during our training, and that first initial search had proven that the last five years of training and work definitely paid off. I realized that everyone else here had never been to an incident like this, so we had to just stay focused and perform our best. I would block out the surroundings, and treat each search exercise as if it were a training back in Sacramento. It worked. Most of the time I wasn’t even aware of my surroundings, except the search area in hand. At one point, I didn’t realize I was standing next to the antenna that was once on the top of the tower that fell and was in an upright position leaning against Building 4. Someone had hung an American Flag on it.

On the dust-covered walls people had written statements of anger toward the terrorists and prayers for the victims. Food stations, provided mostly by Salvation Army and Red Cross, were everywhere. The food stations had bag lunches that families had prepared in decorative bags with handwritten notes of thanks and praise. We found huge pallets of Gatorade and water on every corner. Volunteers were always asking if we needed something either for the canines or us. Volunteers were also walking the streets all day with food from various restaurants, making it available to us anytime we wanted it. All the time we were asked if the canines needed booties (foot protection). We never used the booties because it would have decreased the canines’ agility. Anything we wanted would be brought to us or given to us at anytime. Everybody was anxious to help the searchers in any way they could.

It just didn’t seem right. Encountering the FDNY Battalion Chiefs, I saw exhausted men that had lost so many of their brothers and were so desperately trying to deal with the overwhelming incident itself. They were working in overdrive. I witnessed first-hand true human spirit working so closely with those guys.

The most memorable search for me was performed between Building 5 and Building 6. I had forgotten the weather report given in the pre-deployment meeting because I was usually focused on the wind information only. Since our shift was graveyard and Ground Zero was heavily illuminated, we could not see the sky. It was cold that night and a breeze was blowing. While staging at the Church Street Command Post, we were advised that we had a search mission. We were to follow the FDNY battalion chief to an area that needed to be searched. Two FDNY breathing apparatuses had been located and a search was being initiated. The regular recon team assembled as well as a rescue squad.

We walked along Church Street in front of the burned-out Building 5. We turned the corner and there was a Borders bookstore on the first floor. We continued toward Building 6 (to the west). As we looked down this street, we saw this massive pile of steel four to five stories in height off to the right. It was the other side of the first search we had done at Building 7. At the end of Building 5 was a set of escalators that led to the second floor. We continued up the escalators, then through a day care center, which I was glad to see intact with the exception of dust and broken-out windows. Every floor above it was gutted by fire. The battalion chief went through the glassless window and started walking across the debris between the buildings toward Building 6.

There was a tree protruding through the debris, and I thought we were to walk across a raised patio area. Actually, it was two stories of debris between the buildings. We waited to cross as the rescue squad leader and search manager were guided across the horrific twisted metal by the battalion chief as he detailed the path to cross. As we crossed, there were numerous places that had deep voids and the debris shifted as we walked. It was a tense moment for all of us knowing that we were being given a mission to search for FDNY firefighters.

Randy and Dusty searched the area first with the Search Team Manager, Dave. Robin, a search specialist, was with them. They had gone to the left corner of the building. The canine had to be lifted by hand up through the window at a height of five feet and a precarious layer of debris angled down to at least a two-story drop. No space for error. As they searched, I knew I would have to make the same journey. The next thing we noticed was that they were frantically waving at us. We wondered why they weren’t using the portable radio. As luck would have it, the batteries in both radios had gone dead. The message finally came through that they wanted Ana and I to search that area.

Randy came back as I was working my way over the debris. He said that Dusty had some interest in the area that they were searching and he suggested a long line on the canine because of the small area of floor available and the drop off. I was obviously not aware of the search area layout, but knew it was going to be a challenge to get there and into the search area. As I reached the window, I commanded Ana to wait and stated “lift”, as I always did to pick her up. As I was about to pick her up, my footing slipped and Marc, rescue squad leader, grabbed my jacket for stability as I looked down at debris falling to a two story drop. Oh well, need to get to work. I had to lift Ana about five feet to the window where Dave was waiting to grab her. I then lifted myself into the window. As I got settled, Dave pointed to the area in which Dusty had shown interest. This is hard to explain, but here goes:

We were in the very corner of the building with a floor space twenty feet by twenty feet that was littered with debris. The left was an exterior wall facing the crater; the firefighters’ breathing apparatuses were found leaning against the interior side of this wall. The right side of the area was a wall with a door—a closet or something—and in front of me was total collapse, non-accessible. Dave was pointing to the area between the wall and the collapse. It was a small area to stand.

As I reviewed the area, I noticed the drop, maybe two to three stories. It was a hole about forty feet in diameter. Across the hole were intact offices that were on the edge of the hole. I checked to assure Ana’s long line was secure and backed up against the window I entered. I then held Ana at the collar and commanded “search” as I released her facing the collapsed side. She turned the comer toward the hole as I did, keeping a short lead on her. I had to hug the wall in order to keep my balance. She moved around a little, and then at a sit, she started that intense bark alert with the body shake. She was barking as if she needed to get closer to the scent source because she tried to go over the edge. I told Dave I had a possible alert and that I needed Dave to confer with Randy and Marc as to the next step to take. I wanted to talk over with Randy on where the scent might be issuing from. I had two theories; we had to eliminate one to further the search.

One possible theory was with the wind coming at me, that the scent was issuing and rising from the hole and then bringing it to Ana. The other was that the scent was coming from the office area across from the hole and the wind was pushing the scent into us. Randy agreed with me that before committing resources, we needed to eliminate the office area as a source by searching it. So, we exited the search area in the same manner as entering. The search specialist, Robin, and hazardous material specialist, Randy, were on the office side ready to enter the offices and to investigate the layout.

As we moved along the precarious debris using the wall as support, all hell broke out. It started with a sudden pressure of steady wind that whipped between the buildings and quickly increased in speed. Buildings 5 and 6 were heavily compromised at the top with large and small sheets of metal and other debris hanging precariously over the edge. Within seconds, as we were working our way over to the office area, metal sheets began to fall, landing in the area in which we were working. Other pieces were whipping about, banging against the buildings. Marc immediately called for an evacuation of the area. That was difficult because of the layout of the debris. It started to rain heavily and thunder like I’ve never heard before. We took shelter in the daycare center until we were assured roll call was complete and all were well. We then retreated to the outside, against the building near the Borders Book Store.

We met up with some FDNY guys taking shelter there also. I sat there and wondered about the impact of the mission we had just abandoned. I checked Ana and watered her. The ground was now dust mud, so I went down to the bookstore and asked the police officers inside, through a broken window, if there was something that the canines could lay on. They handed me two poster boards. No one really said much. While we waited out the storm, a few of us started looking at a World Trade Center wall map in a frame, trying to locate where we were. I suggested we remove it and take it with us, as it showed the whole layout of the area; one of the rescue guys used a tool to remove it.

The leaders chose not to continue the mission due to weather making the conditions too dangerous, and there was no sign of the weather conditions changing anytime soon. It was one of the hardest decisions made. I can’t understand why God removed us from our mission. I will always remember this event, as it will haunt me forever not knowing the true outcome. The leaders decided to have the day shift work the site at shift change, if the weather permitted.

At one point, Massachusetts Task Force 1 (MA-TF1) had set up a remote Base of Operations (BOO) at Church Street, right behind the FDNY command post at the east side of the crater. (The crater is the hole created by the collapse or the two towers.) When MA-TF1 demobilized to go home, they left all the tents and some supplies, so we moved right in and shared the space with Florida Task Force 1.

The Massachusetts task force took their canine crates with them when they left. We then brought out two of the four canine crates from our BOO at the Javitz Center and placed them in the Church Street staging area. It worked great to have a place for the dogs to rest and to get them off the dirty, cold ground. Before we had the crates, Ana would just have to stand or lay on the ground. I got blankets for Ana to lie on, but it wasn’t possible to carry them throughout the incident. I was able to get a lightweight blanket from the Salvation Army and Ana to this day is using that blanket she used in New York. Normally she would have ripped it up, but not this one.

During rest periods while in this remote BOO on Church Street, Ana would snuggle up against some of the guys. In this BOO, there were letters from children all over the United States, which I read. Some had drawings depicting the incident, sometimes in detail, and words of thanks to the rescuers and prayers for the lost firefighters and police officers.

Chapter 5 – Into the void

We were once again advised of another search mission. It was to enter a deep void space that firefighters had found at the crater’s edge. We were to enter a cave-like opening that had not been entered. We had no idea where it would go and what we would find. In order to enter the crater from the edge, we had to walk down an “I” beam that was at a steep angle. Ana, as expected, had no problem. We then had to make our way across the horrific twisted metal where once stood the World Trade Center Towers. We had to walk in single file. Ana and I were close to the end. I had no time to view the overwhelming site of destruction, but rather had to focus on my footing. Ana had gracefully manipulated the twisted terrain as if it were another day in the park. She had performed beyond her training and my expectations. I know that Pluis Davern, her trainer, would have been very proud to see her student fly across this debris.

The firefighters were amazed at the canines’ skill level. Most everyone had no idea that the canine could do the things they did, so they were amazed when canines were put to work. At one point, one of the firefighters let me know that there was an area we were about to cross that had a hot surface with smoke issuing from it. I picked Ana up and started moving on past the area he pointed out. The firefighter asked incredulously, “The dog will just let you do that?” Walking over this debris was difficult enough, not to mention carrying a canine and not being able to see where I was stepping. A couple of times the firefighters would grab my jacket for stability as I moved by them. As we came to the opening of the void, everyone started to stack up. They were moving the tools closer to the opening, so Ana and I moved down to the opening to get out of the way. Randy and Dusty went in first with a rescue squad. A tag line was used in order to keep track of the path of our journey. Marc entered the hole out of view of the battalion chief. The chief asked my name and any time he needed to talk to Marc I had to relay the information. They were down there for some time before I heard over the radio, “Send Lee down here..” So on we went, Ana and I, with a rescue squad. It was narrow, dark, uneven, and dusty. A lot of metal dominated the protruding objects in the voids. We never did see any sign of any type of office furnishings. I was on my hands and knees most of the time, and at times on my belly or squatting as I moved through. I kept my flashlight on the line to assure I was going in the right direction.

At one or two points along the way the elevation dropped four feet to the next level. Ana had no trouble going through this terrain. We exited onto a slab of concrete at a steep incline—the first piece of concrete I’d seen intact. At the top we were standing in a below-ground parking area and it had a subway train line running through it. I was not needed yet, so I sat down on the cold floor against a support pillar while I waited for the other team to contact us. I turned off my flashlight. I couldn’t imagine the victims trapped in the cold, dark rubble. I was thirsty, but we were limited in what we could carry and bottled water took up a lot of space. Christy, a Technical Specialist, and Randy, a Hazardous Material Specialist, were with me and carried extra water for the canines.

I turned my flashlight back on and it illuminated an “R” beam protruding through the ceiling as if it were a hot knife through butter—like an arrow stabbed down through the ceiling. I sat there in amazement, knowing that we were numerous stories below grade. Who knew what floor these monster beams came from. I was also trying to imagine the force behind these beams in order for them to penetrate this deep into the ground. It was overwhelming for me.

We had not heard from the first squad because they had gone too deep for the radios, so we set up a relay with other members spaced along the route of entrance. This way we would not be out of touch. The subway line ended at a total collapse in one direction. There were doors leading into hallways and to a partly collapsed stairwell. An NYPD team had been down with us and entered the stairway. I believe they went up because the next thing I heard was a car alarm. I never saw them again because we headed out to find the other squad. We had entered the doors leading to those long hallways. The left indicated the squad had gone that direction because of the markings on the wall they had made; however, the right had no markings, so we decided to recon that area. The hallway turned and dead-ended into a collapse, but there was a hole in the wall on the left side. So Bear (Barry Flores, rescue squad leader) sent Kirk and Kevin—both Rescue Squad Specialists—into the void to investigate. After a while, they said there were areas that could be searched by Ana and wanted me to check on the feasibility of search work. I entered the hole, once again having to lift Ana up into it. With the area short in height, we were forced to sit or squat. Kirk held Ana because I had to go into a void below where we were sitting. I had to slip into a hole barely my size, so I don’t how Kevin got through. It was deep and we had to go blindly, using our feet to feel for footing. It was tight, dark, dusty, and obviously quiet—it was a victim’s environment.

We headed in the direction of what appeared to be back underneath Kirk’s position. On our bellies, we moved to another void. Using my flashlight, I illuminated the hole and I saw another eerie sight. The hole opened to an intact office of some type. There was no way that Kevin could fit into that void, so I headed in. He was a bit concerned about it, but it had to be checked. I know Bear was concerned about the time period we were in there, considering we had no tag line. He radioed that we needed to get out; I told Kevin I needed more time. As I entered the hole, which was so tight I had to force myself through it, I realized that this particular assignment in New York was a dangerous position to be in. We were numerous stories below grade with thousands of tons of debris above us, in the pitch dark with no tag line. This thought lasted only a few seconds because I knew I had to go the extra mile for those victims that could be in there. This event, like so many other search efforts performed by task force members that I felt were beyond the call of duty and safety, would never be seen, heard about, or known by the public nor the media. We had the commitment to give what it took to get an effective and thorough job done.

Once I got through the small, tight area, I experienced that lonely, isolated feeling in the dark. It was dusty, damp, and soundless. I saw metal racks that held numerous files and a row of desks with computers on them. As I illuminated the row of desks with my flashlight, I saw that the row extended into an area that became crushed by a collapsed concrete ceiling above me sloping to a point where it had hit the floor. I stood there for a moment, wondering if everyone got out or not. It then hit me—an odor of death was in the air, but no visible sign of it. Kevin then interrupted the silence: “Are you all right?” “Yes,” I replied slowly, “I’m coming out.” As we crawled out of the twisted debris and dust, for the first time I felt rushed to exit the cavern. Maybe it was because I was no longer focused on searching, but just on getting out. It was a good thing Kevin was with me because I started to go through the wrong void to get out.

After exiting the void we headed out once again to locate the other squad. We continued down the narrow hallway, following their markings. We came to an open area where the subway had split into two directions. We found markings going both directions. We received information that the squad was on their way out, and it was decided that we would exit through the tunnel, the same way we had entered. Some of our squad members were concerned about Ana having to maneuver the tunnel again, but I assured them it was not a problem for her. Even though we may have been close to the exit or an easy route out, we were not sure which direction the other squad had taken.

As we arrived at the open subway and parking lot area, we started our journey back up. Our radio relay guys were waiting along the route. I was then distracted when Christy’s radio came sliding down the concrete. She retrieved it and we moved on. Christy helped a lot during the times I needed to lift Ana up on the way back. The firefighters were waiting for us as we exited the hole. I wish I could say we saw daylight, but it was night of course. It was a relief to get some fresh air after a number of hours below grade. But we weren’t home yet; we were now at the top of the center. I took a deep breath knowing we had a long and difficult walk out still. Ana did just fine—as to be expected. She was so full of energy all the time. It was hard keeping her from tripping the firefighters as she freely, with ease, moved so naturally across the twisted steel. We returned to our staging area behind the command post and waited for our next assignment. I was tired and exhausted and Ana was bouncing off the walls with energy. The Health Department employees, in the tent next to us, had inundated Ana to check and clean her paws and irrigate her eyes and nose. I put her away to rest and I went over to the food stand for a bite to eat. Meanwhile, Randy took Dusty to decontamination because she had become covered in oil after falling into the water that filled the subway tracks, and then rolled in soot…making Dusty look like a black Labrador instead of a Golden Retriever.

Chapter 6 – Finding one of our own buried beneath the rubble

Rick and Ana scan the horizon.
Rick and Ana scan the horizon. Photo: Chris Cantle

While sitting in the staging area we initially set up under the high-rise building, the search manager, Dave, told us to gear up for another assignment. I was glad to get out of this dark, dusty hole that we used as a staging area, but I didn’t initially hear what the assignment was, I later found out Ohio Task Force I (OH TF-1) had requested us. They were working with the FDNY near the site of the command post that was destroyed by the collapse. This was a very sensitive area because this is where FDNY had a large search operation going on to locate their firefighters.

We walked eastward trying to work our way in that area. I had not seen this area close up, so I did not know what to expect. At one point along the way, we had to stop for directions because we were seeking a specific chief that OH TF-1 was working with. In order to get to the location we were looking for, we had to go through an area where heavy equipment was working, and they told us that we would have to go around. This was an area of Ground Zero where we were right next to the high-rises that received heavy damage. They had slices of the exterior wall removed for several floors; most likely from falling “I” beams from the towers. Office furnishings were just precariously hanging there on the edge… like someone taking his or her finger and grabbing a piece of cake. It looked like a movie set; yet it was so real, very real.

We finally reached the search site – indeed, the largest concentration of rescuers working I’d seen yet, multiple operations going at once – and met with the OH TF-1 search manager for a briefing. They wanted us to search an area that their canines were not able to work because of the terrain. Their search manager led us up to the battalion chief who was standing on the debris watching his men working, and the chief pointed out the men he wanted us to cover with the canines.. Since Randy and Dusty started off the search, I gave Ana to Robin to hold while I helped Dave and Randy keep an eye on Dusty. The area was like all of Ground Zero, twisted steel and metal, uneven terrain, and multiple voids. Dusty did great and was moving along nicely, and Randy suggested that I run Ana over the area also. I told him there was no need to send Ana because Dusty showed no interest and that there was no reason to run another canine to waste time. FDNY firefighters were the only ones working with us. It was no different from any other search, everyone heavily focused on the canine during the search, but this time we were looking for our fallen brothers.

As Dusty finished searching, Randy asked the battalion chief if he needed the canines to search an adjoining area which was shaped like a valley. The chief was concerned that it was too dangerous for the canines, but when Randy assured him that our canines were more than capable of handling the terrain, he gave us the clearance to continue the search.

At one point there was an indication that could lead to finding a firefighter, so numerous firefighters began to assemble to remove debris with buckets. I helped too, and as I looked up, I saw total destruction for hundreds of yards and firefighters removing debris piece by piece in hopes of finding a fallen comrade. It was in this crystal moment that I saw true motivation and focus for these firefighters to find closure as they put so much effort into the recovery of their fallen comrades. It was moving to see how gentle they were with each piece of debris they removed.

The firefighters found a void during this process, so Robin placed the camera in position to view the space. We found the space to be small and no evidence of any bodies. The search effort came to an end. We then moved off the massive pile of steel to regroup with the chief. Since Dusty had no interest during the search, once again it was heartbreaking to tell firefighters that the canines were unable to locate anyone. Those words haunted me every day in New York. I was always asked whether Ana had found anyone alive. The hardest thing I did in New York wasn’t crawling through dark and dusty voids absent of my safety, but telling firefighters on a daily basis that the canines were unable to locate anyone alive. Amongst the massive devastation, it is those spoken words, which placed a permanent mark in my mind about the World Trade Center Disaster.

Once again we were summoned by Church Street Command to search another void located by the FDNY firefighters down in the crater area. Randy and Dusty had gone on another assignment with the other rescue squad. Ana and I staged on the top of the edge of the crater while Bear (Barry Flores), with his rescue squad went down to recon the void. There were also a couple of firefighters at the crater’s edge with us as we watched the squad work its way toward the void in question. It was about two hundred yards out and slightly to the left of our position near Building 4. We watched as one of the guys went into the void headfirst with a tag line. It was some time later when they called for a canine. I didn’t even hesitate for a moment.

I headed down the same “I” beam as before in a previous search. It was steep and slippery, and we had to zig-zag a path because of the terrain layout. We literally had to stop numerous times when manipulating these piles of debris in order to decide where we were going to take our next step. Our canines actually out-skilled us moving across the pile; in this case also, I could not keep up with Ana. I used the wait command a lot out there. Once I arrived at the opening, Bear asked me, “Can you get the dog down there?” As I looked at the opening, it was so small and so dark that the tag line went down and disappeared. l replied, “No problem, see you down there.” I went in first and Ana followed as we manipulated our way through one of the tightest tunnels yet. I had only my headlamp and flashlight to illuminate the pitch-dark tunnel. As we moved through, both Ana and I could not help but kick up dust. I had to be quick on the “wait” commands with her all the way. She was moving faster than I could.

Most of the time, while in these tunnels, I did not notice anything human in the debris, but just twisted steel and metal covered in dust. I had no idea of what I might be brushing up against while moving through, but it didn’t matter because we had a job to do. I would get snagged on all types of metal on my way through. This tunnel had required a lot of belly crawling, so I praised the guy who had blazed the trail for us. At times the tunnel would open up wide enough that I would lose the rope, but the rope also became difficult to locate because it was covered with the dust.

I came out into a subway station, but I don’t remember the name of it. Once again, always in the direction of the towers, one direction of the subway was collapsed. At this point, I met up with the rest of the team. After checking the ticket offices by forcing doors and finding they were clear of any damage or victims, we decided there was no need to search. Ana did not search any intact area. We found a stairwell leading up to the street level, but it ended in one flight. We then returned to the track line and followed it on down to the unknown. There were many locked doorways along the narrow service walk that ran alongside the tracks. Since we had no idea where these doors led, they had to be checked. All of the doors were solid metal, opening outward, which made it difficult to force them open. After trying to use hand tools to force the doors open, I felt it was a waste of the guys’ energy, considering it was unknown how many doors we would encounter. I then made a suggestion to Bear. If they could open the door just enough to allow any possible scent to exit or be detected, I could then have Ana check the opening on a search. Ana had not alerted nor shown any interest after checking the doors.

After marking the walls indicating we had searched the area, we moved on further down the tunnel. We came to a point where the tracks split off in different directions. The area we were in also led to a street access. Since our way down was difficult, we decided to go out the subway access. As we exited, we were introduced to sudden loud noises of all the equipment that was working very close to the subway entrance from which we had just exited. We worked our way around the equipment. We had come out on the north side of Building 6. It was a great distance from where we had started on the top of the crater.

I didn’t get too far from the subway exit when a construction worker grabbed me and, obviously nervous and shaken, stated, “We found a firefighter.” I told him to shut down all the equipment, and he did. Bear contacted the task force leaders. No one hesitated as we rushed to follow the worker as he led us to the area. With silence in the air, everyone stood there. He did not have to point out the specific location to any one of us. We all recognized the fire service ladder that was protruding through an opening in the ground which had a rope thrown over the top rung. Our timing could not have been better.

Because I had Ana, I stood and watched the event unfold. As the squad started to walk toward the ladder, an FDNY firefighter came climbing out and grabbed the rope. As he pulled on the rope, it was evident that he was hoisting a heavy object. The squad lunged toward the firefighter to help him with no thought of hesitation. Bear tried to verbally stop our squad because we had been told to let FDNY firefighters handle their own. It was the question of helping a fellow brother. Once our guys reached the FDNY firefighter, he more than welcomed their help. As they pulled on the rope, the well-recognized black bag appeared, as well as another firefighter who had been pushing it from below. At that time our task force leader arrived with an FDNY battalion chief and more firefighters. They carried the body back to the command post as we followed. As time went on, more NYPD officials arrived, making us assume it may have been a law enforcement officer. When the examination ended, they placed the body into a medic unit. We then lined up along the exiting route of the medic unit. In respect of a fallen comrade, we stood at attention with a strong salute among fellow firefighters and police officers as the American flag hung above us on a pole.

Chapter 7 – Staying motivated and focusing on the job at hand

Onward… It was another day at Ground Zero, and we had a search mission once again. It was to search the below-grade floors of the World Trade Center. We were to use the void spaces and passageways underground to locate a vault under the towers. It was the vault that housed the gold. They thought it would have been strong enough to withstand the collapse and workers might have used it as shelter. We had been given some maps of the layout of the buildings, but the problem would be penetrating the collapse. While I was waiting for the team to assemble, a FDNY firefighter came up to Ana and me. He just started petting Ana and talking about animals. He loved animals and he told me about his own animals and about his hobbies. It was good for both of us to converse on issues other than Ground Zero even though we were a hundred feet from total destruction. It reminded me that Ana was not only here to search but to provide an avenue of relief.

We began the search by entering through Building 5 on the Church Street side. We descended via an escalator to the first subterranean level, which was the shopping mall. The floor was littered with debris that fell from the ceiling and storefronts. The stores looked as if an earthquake shook them. Everything was completely covered in dust. We started looking for the stairwells that would lead us down deep under the ground. We entered the service hallway which was behind the stores as we looked for various access points. The portion of the mall we were in was not very large because it had heavy collapses on both ends. We found the escalator that went down and then a stairwell that also continued down. We came out into a service garage or loading area. We continued on as we left someone behind as a radio relay. The air was cool and clear of any dust, but we were wading in water. We entered doorways that led us to rooms only.

We found a tunnel, but it had collapsed. A couple of guys entered the tight voids to check them for access or whether they could be searched, but they found no access. The search manager did not like the condition of the collapse, but the structural specialist said it was stable. We sent two members past it to continue the search down the tunnel. They reported the tunnel dead-ended and they had entered some type of room that had no exit, so they returned. We then entered other hallways that seemed to lead to a dead end or were not leading in the direction we wanted. Two members were sent out to check a long hallway and reported finding a vault. They reported a highly secured vault that had been emptied without force. It was not the vault we were looking for. We continued to scorch up and down numerous stairwells looking for access through the collapse toward the towers, but we had no luck. We then aborted the mission by following the light we had left at each entry and the markings we had made on the walls. We had a plan to enter Building 4 and work our way down, but Florida Task Force had already gone down without any luck either. I had an idea to use a surveying transit to locate the comer of both towers and then penetrate the debris through voids from the top. This way we could know we were right underneath the building. Again, it was just an idea. We never did continue the search from any other location.

A few people had been located in the elevators in buildings that edged the perimeter of the devastation. It is believed that while people were evacuating the building, the elevators lost power and they became stranded. I believe they died of dehydration. An immediate search of all adjacent high-rises was ordered so that every elevator and room was searched. We were assigned to search the Century Twenty One building on Church Street. It was thirty-some-odd stories tall. We had split into squads with one canine team on each squad. We had the odd number floors, and of course we used the stairs. The elevator shafts had to be searched also. We had to open every door on every floor. It was a very time-consuming task and exhausting. A good percentage of the doors were locked, so they had to be forced. We finally came up with an innovative method of opening the doors without causing major damage because this building had no interior damage. As we moved to the upper floors, I checked offices on the west side that faced the devastation. I approached the window and was overwhelmed by the view. For the first time I was given the true magnitude of the devastation. I had to stop and just absorb it all for a moment. Because of the dust on the windows, I had to look through a small hole that was the result of pieces of debris passing through it, and I saw hundreds of rescuers, illuminated only by lights, working feverishly on the massive twisted steel pile that extended for blocks. We completed the search of the remaining floors and elevators without locating anyone, so we headed back to our staging area to await another assignment.

One of the last search operations I was assigned to begin on the surface of the crater near Buildings 4 and Building 6. Randy and I were asked to run the canines over a large area, so Randy and Dusty searched the surface of the debris some distance from me. We were each given a rescue squad in case we needed help removing debris so the canine could penetrate voids if needed. I released Ana to freely search areas on her own with some direction from me. We were literally walking on the exterior structure of the Towers. Ana moved smoothly over the twisted steel as she obeyed every command I executed. She covered the area so fast I found myself checking for other areas that could be searched as well. All the firefighters stood patiently up on the edge of the crater waiting for us to summon them after a find. I had Ana check voids and cover the edges. I had Ana cover a large area with no alert. With regret I had to call the search completed. As I worked my way back up to the edge, the firefighters worked their way down. As we passed, I told them I was sorry but the canine had not located anyone. A firefighter said, “Thanks for trying,” and went right back to working by removing debris with his hands to continue searching.

On one of the last days out on Ground Zero, Randy and I decided to perform a mock search for the canines. We had been giving the canines motivational rewards for various tasks and for upbeat moments, but nothing like they would receive if they found someone. We asked Christy and Robin to assist us in setting up a mock search for the canines. We chose a below-grade area in Building 5.This was the mall area. It had plenty of debris and was out of sight. Randy and I hid for each other and the canines performed as expected and were rewarded. The sound of their alert bark echoed throughout the mall. This was the sound that we had hoped to also echo throughout the piles of Ground Zero but here was only the voice of the handler.

As the days went on, our efforts and our spirit remained high even though we had not located anyone alive. As for the canines, we had placed them in an unimaginable environment that tested their agility and skill level beyond their training. They excelled above and beyond when commanded to work. They had neither faults nor injuries. They had no fear when commanded to scale the horrific twisted steel, but just the drive to please. Tethered to our sides as they moved through the dust and smoke twelve hours a day, yet each minute of the day was packed with energy. These canines had more than proven their place as a vital tool in the search efforts at Ground Zero. It is the handlers and task force members that are the witnesses to these outstanding efforts exercised by these canines. I am very proud of Ana’s performance at Ground Zero. She is a top gun canine in my book after I witnessed her performance at the World Trade Center Disaster.

The thought of not finding anyone alive never crossed my mind. I was always focused on the job at hand. I was upbeat and motivated because I had a mission and it was to perform my job beyond what was expected of my canine and myself. The task force members I worked with day after day provided an outstanding support mechanism, and I thank them for that. Even though each search mission ended without a find, I remained optimistic. Neither the overwhelming pressure nor the destruction interfered with my performance at Ground Zero.

Chapter 8 – Heading Home

Our efforts at Ground Zero had come to an end on September 20th when we were told that our task force was being released to head home. It was a surprise to hear that our shift would not be going out to Ground Zero, but instead breaking down our BOO at the Javitz Convention Center. As we disassembled the BOO, day shift went out to Ground Zero to pack up our gear and cache. It took all day to get this task complete. After the cache was loaded onto the big rig for transport, we hung around waiting for our transportation buses to arrive. I’d lain down against my pack with Ann and just fell asleep. Our relief, the other task forces from Menlo Park, CA and the Bay Area, arrived a couple of hours before we left New York. I spoke to a group of them and gave them a briefing on what we had done and what they should expect out at Ground Zero. I did not get much time to talk to them because I had been asleep most of the time after they arrived.

We loaded onto the buses and headed out of New York toward McGuire Air Force Base (MAFB) in New Jersey along with Los Angeles and Riverside task forces. I did not sleep much, but I was still exhausted from ten days of minimal sleep. We arrived late at night at MAFB and had to stage on the bus until they made meal and sleeping arrangements. We were dropped off at the cafeteria and had dinner. One of our task force members had a relative that was assigned to MAFB. As we were eating, his relative’s family passed out homemade chocolate chip cookies. It was great to have a homemade treat and it was the first time I had seen a child in eleven days.

We retired to the barracks for sleep. Randy, Rob, Chief Chesmore, and I slept in the same room. It was the first time I took medication to sleep. In the morning we were bused to base’s air terminals to ready our task force for departure. The canines were to ride in the passenger compartment with us on the way home. I was glad to be going home, but I felt my mission was not completed since we had not located anyone alive.

The Maguire Air Force Base newspaper reporter and photographer interviewed me while staging at the terminal. Our task force loaded the chartered commercial American Airlines aircraft first, so we worked our way to the rear of the plane. Ana and I took the last seat to the rear on the right and Ana jumped up onto the seat. Rob Cima and Harley took the scat across from me. Ana had always slept anytime we were in transit, and she curled into a ball on the seat and was all set for the journey. As the plane loaded, a Los Angeles task force member took the end seat, and he did not have any problem with Ana taking the middle seat. Ana did not bother him.

After a six-hour flight, we arrived at an air force base in southern California to let the Los Angeles and Riverside task forces off the plane. We were allowed to exit the aircraft, so I exercised Ana and talked with some of the military police. We then re-boarded the airplane and departed to Travis Air Force Base (TAFB). Before we landed, the plane had to circle the base a few times and everyone started to get anxious and make remarks as to weather or not we would be able to land. I think we all just wanted to get home.

Chapter 9 – Homecoming

rick and anna, search dog foundation
Rick & Ana rappel Photo: Michael Justice

We finally landed and everyone was exiting the plane. Someone noticed out the window that there was a large group of people and media waiting for us to deplane. Rob and I looked at each other and chose to slow our exit so all the attention would be directed toward everyone else. As we exited the plane, we learned quickly that our plan had failed. Our welcome was introduced with a loud cheer and numerous law enforcement officers lining both sides as we stepped onto the tarmac.

My reaction was, “My God, this is for us, what did we do?” I thanked each officer for being there for us., then joined the other members of the task force who were gathered in a group off to the side as photographers took pictures.

Two other task force members and I were chosen to speak to the media. As the media moved, actually ran, toward us I had no idea of how important it was for us to speak to them. It must be understood that I had no idea, nor did the thought cross my mind, that we were the only direct link between Sacramento and the World Trade Center disaster. The media directed the first question to me. They wanted to know what Ground Zero was like and if we had located live victims. There was that question again about finding live victims. As I kept my composure, I told them we were unable to locate any people alive. I told them that Ground Zero was similar to descriptions of the bombed out sites of World War II, and it was if someone took both Towers and placed them into a blender and dumped them onto the ground. I then let the others speak and I boarded one of the two buses with the blue team. They had great bag lunches and homemade cookies on board which we ate during our journey home.

During the ride home from Travis Air Force Base to Sacramento, we had a large escort of fire staff vehicles and law enforcement vehicles. There were even helicopters in the air following along the route. We entered the freeway and as we approached the first overpass we were stunned by the all the people and fire equipment on the overpasses and people were waving and cheering as we drove under them. They were waving banners and flags. We sat in amazement as we received this very honored event at every overpass from Fairfield to Sacramento. We turned on the interior lights of the bus, so that the people could see us waving back at them to show our appreciation. This welcome was totally overwhelming and inspiring to us all. We had no idea of the impact our efforts in New York had on our home area.

When we entered Sacramento, our own departments had equipment and firefighters staged at various intersections as we entered the surface streets. We ended our journey when we arrived at the Sacramento Army Depot where our journey had started eleven days before. There was a large group of people in the distance as we entered the gate. We knew it was our families waiting anxiously. They were waving flags and banners. I was in the first bus and we were screaming and yelling as we pulled up. I saw my family as we approached and with no hesitation I jumped of the bus first. It was good to see them and hug them because it gave me a sense of closure and safety. They had made some banners that read “Welcome Home,” “Thanks Dad for Helping – Go Ann,” and “We are proud of the 62 of you who went.”

Chapter 10 – My reflection on our deployment to Ground Zero

I spent the next few days with my family in a safe and quiet environment. One day I drove to Downieville, my favorite location in the mountains, to take a breather. After seeing the horrific dust-covered devastation of the World Trade Center disaster for days on end, I needed to get away from it all. I just had to see for myself that the beauty of nature was still alive; that the world still had color and sounds of peace. With not a soul around, the wind blowing through the trees and the sound of the river, I released Ana, to run around and be free of commands. She ran right into the river and found herself a rock for entertainment. I stood in the middle of the river, fishing… knowing I would not catch anything, just enjoying the sounds and sights of nature.

Even though I spent hundreds of hours training Ana and spending time away from my family for the last five years, it was unquestionably worth its weight in gold. I have no doubt that if there were survivors to be found, our canines would have located them. I am very proud and honored to have been a part of the rescue efforts at the World Trade Center along with my comrades of California Task Force 7. It was an incredible experience to be there first-hand at Ground Zero, and it will be with me for the rest of my life. There isn’t a day that goes by that a reminder of the disaster doesn’t flash in my mind. It has changed the way I look at life, as it should for everyone. God Bless.