Next Door to Disaster

Surrounding neighborhoods fall quiet as residents try to cope

By Katia Hetter and Rocco Parascandola | STAFF WRITERS

September 13, 2001

National Guardsman Tony Soika sat atop a tank at the corner of Broadway and Walker streets, holding an M16 rifle. Without letting go of the rifle, Soika mentioned that 90 percent of the people passing by stopped to take pictures with him.

"I was in Desert Storm, so I'm a little ready for something like this," Soika said, though he never anticipated being on a tank in the middle of Broadway.

In the aftermath of the World Trade Center's Twin Towers explosions, Manhattan below 14th Street has turned into a war zone - with people taking pictures to document the scene.

National Guardsmen and police officers patrolled the eerily quiet streets, with the occasional siren sound of an ambulance speeding north with victims. Police limited access below 14th Street to people who could prove they live there. Those who made it below 14th Street often found their apartments had no electricity or water.

Further downtown, smoke from the fires still burning filled the air while remnants of the explosion cover the cars. Residents without electrical power or water stayed in hotels or with friends.

Throughout Greenwich Village, there were signs posted on trees and lampposts with photos of loved ones that are still missing, some listing floors on which they worked. Canal Street was covered with fliers telling people where to go to donate blood.

The unusual quiet was unsettling to those who live in the normally noisy neighborhoods. It reminded John Saunders of his time in Cairo in 1977, after the army had to be called in to quell rioting.

"That night it was absolutely still," said Saunders, 51, who lives at 11th and Bleeker streets. "When I walk the streets, usually you can feel the electricity in the air, the city's alive, people are moving and doing things," he said. "This morning, it was absolutely still. It's like the twilight zone."

On Franklin Street, rows of intact cars were covered with dust. One stuck out, though: a crushed white Chevy Blazer with Pennsylvania plates. Chunks of marble, shards of glass, business files and a Securities and Exchange Commission inventory listing sat on top of the car.

A memorial to the lost firefighters of Ladder Company 20 and Engine 13 appeared in front of the firehouse. People placed flowers on Lafayette Street near Spring Street where a red rack of 10 jackets and lines of boots and helmets, all covered in ash, sat.

Further down at the corner of Reade and Hudson streets, a Korean market remained open without electricity yesterday, using candlelight. At the counter, Kevin Oh said he felt he needed to remain open to get residents what they need. Also, he was giving away food and water to rescue workers.

"I don't think of this as business," Oh said. "You have to supply the people, especially the police officers and firefighters."

Among the shoppers was actor Michael Imperioli, who plays Christopher on "The Sopranos" and stopped in for a pack of cigarettes. Police rushed over to him to shake his hand and take pictures.

"It's surreal," Imperioli said. "I just hope they find out who did it and let them be punished for it."

Meanwhile, neighbors on Mulberry Street are debating whether or not to go through with the San Gennaro festival. Many booths are in place, but several restaurants and food shops cannot get supplies.

Newsstand vendor Joseph Alfieri, 69, who works on Mulberry Street, said the festival should go forward.

"Giuliani and the governor said let's live our lives and get back to normal," Alfieri said. "I agree. We're not going to forget about what happened. I'm very angry myself, but I think we have to try to get back to normal."

Devi Athiappan, Ariella Budick, Glenn Gamboa and Leonard Post contributed to this story.