By Mary Malloy
"It was a few minutes before nine in the morning," Scharff recalled, "and I was about a mile away from my house when I realized I forget my pocketbook at home, and turned the car around to get it." As she did so, she turned on the radio. "I heard that a plane had hit one of the towers, and I ran into the house to turn on the TV."
Scharff's oldest daughter, Erin, who was 12 at the time, was home sick that day, and they watched together in horror. "I fell to my knees," said Scharff. "It shook my world, like it did everyone else's." She then went to North Woodmere Park, where she could see the towers burning across Jamaica Bay. "I never made it to work that day."
At the time, Scharff, a former East Rockaway resident, was a divorced mother of two with a private psychotherapy practice in Wantagh. In addition to working at the Brooklyn yeshiva, she ran parenting-skills groups, focusing on high-risk behavior and its consequences with families of middle school and high school students.
"I got a call later in the day from a friend and colleague," Scharff recounted. "She had called one of the numbers on TV, asking for volunteers to help." Her friend had already found a group that was taking people into New York City the next day, and Scharff wanted to go with them. Scharff, who was certified in critical incident stress management, said there was an intense feeling of helplessness. "I had the training, and I wanted to do something," she said.
But she was conflicted. She had her mother and two preteen daughters at home to care for, but she was compelled to go with the group. She spoke with her family, and they helped her make the decision to go to ground zero.
On the night of Sept. 12, Scharff and her companions drove into Manhattan. "When we got to the Midtown Tunnel booths," she said, "there were police with machine guns, and they were pointing them into the car. We explained that we were social workers going to help the rescuers. One of them gestured us forward, and said very emotionally, 'Go, go, go...'"
Scharff said that driving through the city was surreal, almost like being on a movie set. It was quiet, with few cars and few people on the streets. The group met with other relief organizations at Stuyvesant High School on Chambers Street to organize food and supplies. "We carried cartons of water and supplies until our arms ached, " said Scharff, "right into ground zero. It seemed like forever. When we got there, there was a lot of quiet activity."
It was still very much a rescue operation at that point, with police, firefighters and emergency crews working diligently. "I saw them take out a few bodies," Scharff recalled. She handed out food and drinks to the workers, using the task as an excuse to make contact with them. "It was just small talk, but we let them know that they were supported," she said. "We just listened."
The tragedy was still so fresh, Scharff said, that people were not yet talking about their feelings about it. "When you're going through a crisis, you deal with your feelings later," she added. "Just having someone to talk to was enough at that time."
One 19-year-old man she worked alongside was from out of state. After many hours, they had established a rapport. He told Scharff he had AIDS, and before this, he didn't think he would ever have the chance to do anything meaningful with his life. "I told him that today he had made a difference," Scharff recounted. "He cried on my shoulder, and I promised myself I would never forget him."
Scharff went back to ground zero two more times over the next week. As time went by, she and her group had less access to the area. "I closed down emotionally for a while after that week," she said. "I functioned, did what I had to do, fulfilled my responsibilities."
She had always wanted to work in some area of medicine. "It soon dawned on me that I could volunteer at my local fire department," she said. "I talked about it with my daughters, and my youngest, Debra, who was 11 years old then, said, in a way only a preteenager can, "Do it --- you're not getting any younger!" Scharff made the call to the Hewlett Fire Department early in 2002 and was soon an official member of the department. That June she signed up to become an EMT, which involved another five months of training. "I loved what I was doing," she said.
When she finished EMT school, Scharff continued to volunteer, but looked for work in the emergency medical services field. She got a job as a EMT, doing hospital transport, and eventually as a 911 responder with TransCare Ambulance Corp. working out of Brooklyn. She also enrolled in courses to become a paramedic.
"I got married three weeks later, and then soon after found out that we were going to have a baby," said Scharff. She had met her husband, Jared Schoenfeld, a paramedic, when they were both with the Hewlett F.D. She took a leave of absence from TransCare and stayed in paramedic school until the beginning of her ninth month of pregnancy. Her third daughter, Meagan, was born that August. "I still had state exams to take, " she said, "which I completed the following summer."
Scharff became a paramedic in August 2005. She moved her therapy practice to Lynbrook, and now works a few days a week at TransCare , which contracts with many New York City hospitals to provide emergency care. "The 9/11 experience changed me so much," said Scharff, "and it helped me to help others. I want people to know that when they're faced with challenges, they can work through their fears. You never know where your blessings will come from."
Comments about this story? MMalloy@liherald.com or (516) 569-4000 ext. 202.
