The firefighter and EMT with Fort Covington, New York Fire Department stepped up immediately when the call went out for volunteers.

“I felt it was my duty,” he said. “We all share the same volunteerism. Once you start volunteering, and you like helping people, that’s the appeal.

“When something bad like that happens, you feel like you should be there to do something.

“We were going into the unknown. But we knew it was fairly safe by then; it was probably the safest place to be.”

CREWS HEAD TO NYC

Just hours after the first hijacked airliner crashed into the World Trade Center, North Country volunteers were mobilized, ready to help.

“At 1:06, we opened our emergency-operations center,” recalls Franklin County, New York, Emergency Services Director Ricky Provost.

He was reading from a log sheet, long tucked away in a filing cabinet in his office. It jogged his memory on some of the technical events surrounding the county’s response, which sent 36 emergency-medical technicians and equipment to New York City.

Firefighters and emergency-medical personnel trained in both basic and advanced life support from all over the region rolled ambulances in long convoys south on the Adirondack Northway to New York City, uncertain of what was waiting ahead.

DESPERATE FAMILIES

Bashaw had served in the U.S. Army for four years and the reserves for four more, “so I had a feeling of what to expect,” he said.

But that didn’t dull the impact of what he saw when he arrived.

“Once we got to Manhattan, they were stopping everybody before you went in. Along the side of the road, there was a large fence with pictures of missing people and signs.

“There were family members right there, throwing pieces of paper in the window. You’d open up the paper, and it said, ‘Have you seen my family member?’ with a picture.

“That brought the human aspect into play. There was a tremendous loss of life there. To see it on TV is one thing, but to see the actual family members grieving and the firefighters that were there grieving, it brings it all home.”

UNCERTAINTY

Marty Burnett, a deputy Emergency Services coordinator in Franklin County and member of the Moira Volunteer Fire Department, said volunteering for that solemn duty was “one of the most intense times in my career.

“I could describe it to you, but it doesn’t do it justice. We didn’t know if something else was going to happen while we were there, and there was concern about people taking care of our commitment back here,” Burnett said.

“We sent more seasoned people because of the stressful situation, and it was an experience you’ll never forget.”

“One of things that will never be forgotten was the smell. It will never go away. Ever.

“You could feel the tension in the air. The stress, the concern with wanting to try to help. But you want to make sure you’re doing something to help, not add to the confusion,” he said.

BIG SCARE

The huge knot of massive equipment, dump trucks and cranes used to gingerly remove tons of twisted steel and concrete was bound to create more uncertainty, illustrated on Burnett’s first night there.

“One of the big dump trucks coming on through hit a piece of steel or rebar and blew a tire. It sounded like an explosion. The hair on your neck was standing up.

“Everything was quiet as a mouse. Guns were draw. Everybody was scoping everyone and everything until they realized what was happening.

“Your pulse went from 50 to 150 in a heartbeat, waiting for something else to happen. That was another lasting impression.”

CAMARADERIE

Ambulances were staged and called in as needed when human remains were found in the debris.

Burnett’s job was to work at the command post at the Chelsea Pier, coordinating personnel deployments.

“We were just trying to account for everybody and make sure we knew where they were and (that) they had completed their mission.

“We were thinking of the bigger picture because we had to figure out where they were going to stay and were planning our route back,” he said, because access to roads was limited.

Burnett had visited the city years before and experienced less-than-friendly interaction.

But the opposite was true after Sept. 11, 2001.

“People were just unbelievable,” he said. “Everybody made you feel at home and at much at ease as they possibly could in this situation and circumstance.”

GROUND ZERO SHOCK

Clinton County, New York, sent volunteers and rescue units twice, said Storm Treanor, the county’s emergency-medical services coordinator. She was among them.

Like millions of others, she had seen the footage over and over of the doomed jets intentionally crashing into the Twin Towers and had watched as the towers collapse, knowing there was massive physical and emotional destruction inflicted on the city and its people.

“I remember seeing it for the first time,” she said of Ground Zero. “I was not that familiar with New York City — though I had been there a few times before — but I remember thinking, ‘I’m in a horror show.’

“I was thinking how awful it was to see (on TV), but until you see it in person, you don’t realize how devastating it was for everyone in the city as a whole.

“We provided support to the people who were searching for people and body parts in the rubble. Their disappointment, their disillusionment to what was going on, that’s what I remember.

“But in spite of the losses they had, these people rallied and supported each other and supported the people who came down to support them.”

DO WHAT YOU CAN

Treanor said some grateful residents rented hotel rooms so firefighters and rescue personnel could get some badly needed rest away from the sights, sounds and smells at the recovery site.

Others slept on cots set up in makeshift shelters.

“Everybody came away with heartfelt memories of the response people had for what we were doing,” Treanor said.

She returned to New York City about five years ago.

“To see what’s come of it and the general demeanor of people changed; it was nice to see.”

Having a role with the traumatized people coming out on the other side of such a catastrophic event “was, overall, a good experience and a learning experience,” she said.

“In every response, you never know what’s going to happen. And you have to realize that sometimes, there isn’t much you can do. But every little bit helps.”

Raymo writes for the Plattsburgh, New York, Press Republican.