A Pile of Dog Bones

“In each of us two natures are at war… the good and the evil. All our lives the fight goes on between them, but one of them must conquer. In our own hands lies the power to choose. What we want most to be we are.” – Dr. Henry Jekyll

Wednesday, October 11, 2006


WARNING: This post will be a relatively large diversion from our usual programming. If you can't deal with that fact for whatever reason go see RockyJay. Thanks.


Today is FOAD Thursday. Favorite blogging day of the week and all that. After today I should have a huge FOAD. But I don't. The reasons will become evident.

By now everyone has probably heard of the plane crash involving Yankee Pitcher Cory Lidle. The plane crashed into 524 East 72nd Street between the 30th and 31st floors. There is no doubt about it that this is indeed a tragedy for the families of Lidle and his instructor.

When the first call came into the Comm Center where I was working the first thing I did was to look for some sort of confirmation. It took me 27 seconds to confirm that there were at least six other reports of something. The initial report was that of a small engine plane. The same as it was 5 years and 1 month ago on that September morning.

It took me 15 second to send the alert, 45 seconds to receive verbal communication from my dispatchers, another two minutes to send out the perimeter coordinates for a cold zone based on wind and height, and then two more minutes to receive verbal confirmation that all units were thus accounted for with only one unit considered to be potentially in the hot zone.

At this point there was a verbal exchange between myself and someone with greater authority than myself... but who apparently was clueless to what was going on even though he was sitting in the same room. He then left the room. I then sent out a final list of standing orders to be followed. I picked up the phone and spoke briefly with the garage supervisor on duty and secured myself an ambulance.

As I walked towards the staircase to descend into the garage with the person I had recruited as my partner, I was once again stopped by the person with greater authority. I was asked where I was going. I was a little taken aback at the question, but I answered it anyway. I was then told in a matter of two seconds, "Your experience is best served here."

Inside I became enraged. I practically stomped back to my desk like the petulant child I can be. I sat at the desk as everything unfolded around me... without me. Sitting there was when I realized that after 12 years, thousands of MVAs, 500+ fires, 97 major concert events (79 of them where I was in the ICS), two plane crashes, two hurricanes, one ice storm, and a major terrorist attack... it took 2 seconds for them to put me out to pasture.

I feel so old.
Posted by New York City's Watchdog :: 10/11/2006 10:02:00 PM :: :: 3 Bones Added to the Pile

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