By Jacky Gerzema
But whom to choose? Should it be the Baldwinites lost in the attacks -- Alvin Bergsohn, Thomas Hobbs, Brian McAleese, Joel Miller, Eddie Schunk? Or maybe their families, suddenly and unwillingly thrust into history and forced to go on without their husbands, fathers, brothers and sons?
Then there were the New York City firefighters, police officers and emergency personnel who make their home in Baldwin and have labored for so many gruesome and heartbreaking hours "in the pile." We also considered residents who weren't directly impacted by the attacks but who gave time, money and encouragement to those who did lose a loved one.
Eventually, we decided we wanted to focus on the living, and in our minds, no one represents surviving and thriving in the face of adversity like the Baldwin Fire Department.
In any given year, this group of men and women -- over 200 strong -- is there for Baldwin not only in emergencies but for more festive occasions, too. Their antique pumper truck and department members are staples at most community events.
In the past three and a half months, the men and women of the Baldwin Fire Department have not only performed their usual duties -- from responding to fires and gas leaks to chaperoning Santa Claus around town -- but have risen to challenges that until Sept. 11 seemed unfathomable.
The first time the Baldwin Fire Department ever responded to a call in New York City was Sept. 11. Eleven men from the department helped with search and rescue efforts that day:
Jerry Brennan
Jerry Brown
John Brown
Thomas Brown
William Brown
Keith Eckels
Frank Esposito
James Hagan
Mike Jazylow
Stu Lang
Christopher Neville
One man, James Hagan, faced the destruction at the World Trade Center that day knowing that his sister, who worked in one of the towers, might be among the missing. We salute all these men.
But beyond just responding to the call, there were the after effects to deal with as well. The department has organized fundraisers for fallen comrades and their families. They have attended and participated in countless funerals and memorials. But mainly, they have gone on, continuing to work their regular jobs, taking care of their families and serving the community.
And don't forget, they are volunteers. They put their lives on the line for us, without pay.
We wished we could have written about all the members of the department, but clearly, that would have been impossible. Instead, we focused on three people who embody the spirit of the Baldwin Fire Department.
Baldwin Fire Department
Fair.
If there was one word to describe former Baldwin Fire Department Chief Chris Neville, who wrapped up a four-year term at the beginning of January, it would have to be fair, said new Chief Kevin McElynn.
"He [Chris] was chief of the entire department, not a company," McElynn said. "He is an outgoing and sociable guy with a lot of friends. But when it came time to be the boss, he would set personal feelings aside for business. He accomplished a lot as chief."
But perhaps Chris's biggest challenge was as leader of the department which sent 11 men to Ground Zero following the Sept. 11 terrorist attack.
In a previous interview with the Herald, Chris briefly related his initial reaction to the terrorist attack.
"A lot of people were hurt bad," he said. "A lot of brother firefighters."
Chris said bodies and pieces of bodies had been found at the site of the wreckage, but no survivors. In one sentence he summed up the Ground Zero experience:
"It was not a pretty scene."
Chris led five Baldwin firefighters into Ground Zero, including Mike Jazylow. At 10:30 on the morning of the attack, the chief went to Belmont Race Track with an engine and a truck. Jazylow and others joined him later that day as he led them into Ground Zero around 6 p.m.
Chris got down to business and used a mellow voice to get his points across and give directions at the site of the attack, Jazylow said.
"He [Chris] was very good that day, he shows by example," Jazylow said. "He's a leader by example. He was definitely the man at that hour."
That evening, the firefighters helped people at the Marriott Hotel and were part of a search and rescue team that emptied out wreckage from Rescue 1, the rescue company of the Fire Department of New York.
They stayed until 5 a.m. the next morning, but Chris wasn't finished. He was needed at Far Rockaway's fire department, so he went to help on standby after leaving the city.
Chris's work continued long after volunteer firefighters were no longer needed at Ground Zero. McElynn said he helped organize several fund-raisers for fallen firefighters and citizens, including two fund-raisers at DJ's Den and J. Paul's for Brian McAleese, a New York City firefighter lost in the attack.
Chris's wife, Candy Neville, said Chris didn't tell her much about his experiences at Ground Zero.
"He was very affected by everything that happened," she said. "He taught at the Fire Academy and knew a lot of firefighters from there who were lost. I heard from some other people who had talked to Chris and I overheard him talk to friends. Some of the things I heard I know he wouldn't have told me about."
Candy and Chris Neville met ten years ago in August of 1990, while they were vacationing in Nags Head, North Carolina. When Candy first met her future husband, she hated him. And he hated her right back, according to Candy.
"He thought I was a snob and I thought he was an arrogant...I don't know if that last word can be printed," she said, laughing.
Candy and her single friend had taken a vacation to North Carolina. While her friend was on a manhunt, Candy, a divorced mother of one, wasn't really looking for love herself. So she scoped out the beach for her friend. When she saw a good-looking man running on the beach, she said to her friend, "There's one for you."
The man heard her and came over to introduce himself and invited the two over to where he and his friend were sitting.
"That's when I saw Chris," Candy said. "He was reading a book and he never even bothered to look up and introduce himself."
Later, when the two finally started talking, they realized they actually did like each other. They liked each other enough for Chris to make weekend trips to visit Candy in Virginia, where she lived, long after the vacation was over. They liked each other enough for Candy to move to Baldwin to be with Chris and enough for them to get engaged, get married in October of 1991 and have three children together, sons Ryne and Wyatt, ages six and four and 2-year-old daughter Carly.
Chris not only volunteers in Baldwin, but fights fires professionally in Garden City and teaches at the Nassau County Fire Academy.
Though his stint as chief is over, Chris's work as a volunteer is not. He will continue giving his time to the Baldwin Fire Department, but will take full advantage of the additional time he has available to spend with his children. He recently signed son Ryne up for 7-year-old lacrosse and will soon be a leader in a different organization -- the cub scouts.
"He does a really good job with balancing work and family," Candy said of her husband. "He tries to be the best dad and husband and he does a really good job at both."
H: The toolbox is open, the game face on
by Jonann Brady
photo: 90012
cap:
photo: 90013
cap:
Brian Brown joked that he's never actually seen his father John's teeth, being that he rarely smiles. When he was growing up, he said his friends were afraid of his dad -- an imposing man with an equally imposing moustache and a serious demeanor.
But the more Brian, a 24-year-old New York City police officer, talks about his father, the more it becomes clear he is in awe of the man.
"There's nothing my father couldn't do," said Brian. "I look back on it now and I wouldn't be the cop I am now without him."
His mother, Patty, said, "What's that saying? That you wind up turning into your parents?"
"I would have no problem growing up to be like my father," said Brain, without hesitation.
John Brown and most of his five brothers grew up to be like their father, Gerard, a Navy man and a fireman. John, Jerry and Billy Brown are all current members of the Baldwin Fire Department. John, a former department chief and two-time captain, is also an instructor specializing in confined-space rescue at the Nassau County Fire Academy. He teaches others how to deal with the type of situation that emergency personnel faced when the twin towers collapsed.
Because he had trained so many firefighters, John Brown was especially hard hit by the events of Sept. 11. Three of his closest colleagues at the Academy were killed in the attacks -- George Howard, Tommy Langone and Brian Hickey. John was still reeling from losing another friend, Brian Fahey, in the Father's Day fire in Astoria, Queens, said Patty.
Since Sept. 11, John's family -- which also includes son Sean, 27, and daughter Erin, 20 -- said they've seen a change in him, and it hasn't been for the worse.
"He's a little more...approachable," said Brian, choosing his words carefully.
"Family has become even more important to him," said Patty. Recently John has started bagpiping lessons, something he's always wanted to do, said his wife, and she chalks this up to a new attitude of not letting things slip by until its too late.
But a looser attitude doesn't mean John Brown has become a free-wheeling guy. He is still stone-cold serious about the things he does, particularly when it comes to fighting fires.
"He can't tolerate a sloppy job," said his wife. "If they want something done right, they come to John."
Jim Bugler, who hired John at the Fire Academy 10 years ago, characterized John as a "finisher."
"His toolbox is always open. His game face is always on," said Bugler.
While they admit he's a bit stoic, his family says that doesn't mean John can't have fun or doesn't have a few quirks. As the department historian, John is a notorious packrat, says his family. Their attic contains department T-shirts dating back to 1971, said his wife. This Christmas, he rummaged through a trunk and pulled out a bottle of 1977 rum to throw in the eggnog.
Brian and Patty also recalled department shenanigans from the mid-1980's when pranksters like Chris Neville ran wild. When John was the chief, a turkey showed up in his car one Thanksgiving -- and not the frozen kind. Sean, Brian and Erin found a leash and walked the turkey up and down their street, much to the neighbors' amusement.
Brian also reminisced about how cool it was to grow up having a huge antique fire truck parked in his driveway or personal visits from Santa Claus.
But a more recent memory sticks in Brian's mind. He recalled going to the firehouse on Sept. 11 before his father went to Ground Zero. He said he looked in his father's eyes and said, "Be careful. I love you." He also remembered feeling worried, afraid that the man he looks up to might not be coming back from the devastation, and he asked him, "What do we do?"
His father replied, "This is what we do. This is who we are. We're Browns and it's in our blood."
H: When Irish eyes smile
By Jonann Brady
photo: 90014
cap: Tim Carl, Maureen Carl and George Carl.
Maureen Carl is not someone to be trifled with.
Ten years ago, she was the first woman in Baldwin to join a firefighting company.
"She saw that I was there all time and wanted to spend more time with me, I guess," laughed her husband of 26 years, George.
George Carl, a retired New York City firefighter, spent 30 years volunteering with the Baldwin department. The couple's son, 24-year-old Tim, a New York City police officer, currently volunteers there. The couple also has two daughters Katie, 21, and Kerry, 17.
Though some of the men in department were "uncomfortable" with Maureen being around at first, said her husband, she was accepted in short order.
Perhaps it was her sense of humor. Jerry Brown, chief of operations, laughed as recalled her sitting around with a group of guys and putting a new twist on an old joke. When the phone rang, she would quip, "If it's my husband, tell him I'm not here," even if George was sitting nearby.
Cheryl Brown, Jerry's wife and Maureen's long-time friend, said, "When she walks into a room it lights up.... Her Irish eyes are always smiling."
According to Cheryl, Jerry coined a nickname for her -- Maureen Scissorhands -- as she often responds to late-night calls wearing slippers and her hair sticking up on end. "What do you want me to do?" Maureen will say when she comes into the firehouse looking less than glamorous.
Maybe she changed some doubters' minds with her no-nonsense attitude.
"She speaks out for herself," said Cheryl Brown. "With her, it's not, 'I'm a woman firefighter.' It's, 'I'm a firefighter.'"
Her husband agreed.
"She holds her own," said George. "She gets in there."
Or, maybe Maureen Carl won the guys over by being such a giving and caring person. "Everyone should be blessed with a friend like her," said Cheryl Brown.
Though Maureen didn't go into the city after the World Trade Center attacks, she's been doing her part. She immediately called Cheryl, who had started fundraising for the United Firefighter's Association Widows' and Children's Fund, to ask, "What can I do to help?"
Maureen worked four days straight, often until after midnight, to help prepare for the yard sale that raised $10,000 for the fund. But Maureen's do-gooder streak didn't begin and end with one yard sale. For Christmas, she arranged to give Santa Claus a lift to the McAleese home in the department's antique pumper truck to visit the four children whose NYFD father, Brian, was lost on Sept. 11.
She also found a down-on-their-luck Baldwin family and donated the department Christmas tree to them and brought them a turkey dinner for the holidays, said Cheryl.
"She has a commitment to the less fortunate," said Cheryl. "When she does [volunteer work] it's not for credit. She's not a flag waver."
