9/11 through the eyes of a Nutley cop

By Patrick Bober, Managing Editor

Detective Anthony Montanari of the Nutley Police Department had only been on the force for a year when he started the midnight shift at 11:30 p.m. on Sept. 10, 2001.Detective Robert McDermott had also been working overnight.“He and I were still patrol officers, both assigned to the midnight shift for about a year, since January,” said Montanari. “We were the only two in the department that came out of the academy together that year.” The overnight and early morning hours shift of Sept. 11, 2001 was not very different from any other night. Montanari says he does not recall any exact incidents that transpired before his shift ended at 8:30 a.m., but he went out on patrol just like any other night. And after the  shift ended, Montanari got into his car and began his usual drive home.“Everything always seemed to come alive around 7 to 9 a.m. each morning just as I would be ready to go home and get some rest,” he said.

But on the morning of Sept. 11, 2001 the world “came alive” to the news that American Airlines Flight 11 had crashed into the World Trade Center’s North Tower at 8:46 a.m., 16 minutes after Montanari’s shift had ended.“Listening on my car radio as I traveled home,” Montanari recalled,

“I thought this was accidental, as recent smaller planes had done in the past. When I arrived home and turned the television on, I saw the smoke billowing from the tower and realized it was a commercial jetliner.At 9:03 a.m., United Airlines Flight 175 flew into the South Tower.“I was watching the broadcast when news cameras caught the second commercial airliner strike the south tower,” he continued. “I couldn’t believe what I had witnessed on live TV and began to realize this was not an accident, but an act of terrorism.”Moments later, Montanari’s phone rang.

It was McDermott, asking if he was aware of the attacks.“We then decided to take a ride to Jersey City,” Montanari said. “Grabbing my sidearm and a camera, I didn’t know what to expect.” The pair sped along the Pulaski Skyway, closer and closer toward the city. It was from the busy New Jersey highway that the pair got a very clear view of the South Tower collapsing at 9:59 a.m. after burning for 56 minutes.

“We watched as it just disappeared, leaving behind a plume of smoke that could be seen from anywhere. McDermott and I looked at each other in disbelief and could only imagine the loss of life that just occurred. News commentators on the radio felt the same way.”The pair continued to dodge traffic jams and gridlock and made it into Jersey City before watching the North Tower collapse at 10:28 a.m. after burning for 102 minutes.

“We were once again in disbelief.”Not knowing what would happen next, the partners returned to Nutley, where Montanari immediately picked up his son from school.“It seemed most parents felt the same way, as the school quickly emptied,” he recalled. Montanari then returned to Nutley Police Headquarters to prepare for the unknown. “We watched from the Nutley Command Center as the president ordered all planes out of the sky, and we then learned of the plane crashes at the Pentagon and in Pennsylvania.”American Airlines Flight 77 crashed into the Pentagon at 9:37 a.m. United Airlines Flight 93 crashed near Shanksville, Pa., at 10:03 a.m. after the passengers fought the hijackers.“As the world began to react, we watched radar bleeps randomly disappear from the sky. It was surreal what was happening.”Nutley, just like every municipality, had never really prepared for events like those on the morning of Sept. 11.“We began bolstering security and initiating area checkpoints,” Montanari said. “We stopped and scrutinized trucks, vehicles with tinted windows, or any other suspicious movement that was capable of driving or causing mass destruction.

All officers were requested to keep their phones on and be available pending an emergent need for duty.”Nutley began forming a special task force through the Fire Department and the Office of Emergency Management. Officers and firefighters were deployed to Liberty Park in Jersey City to assist with transports, first aid and evacuations.Montanari was not part of the initial lower Manhattan response, but remained in Nutley to safeguard the town, as reports spread regarding the possibility of additional attacks and suspicious incidents.

At 11:30 p.m. on the night of the attacks, Montanari went back on regular duty, again working the midnight shift until 8:30 a.m. Sept. 12. He was stationed at a checkpoint along Park Avenue continuing to be on the lookout for anything suspicious.“It was about 2 a.m. and there was an eerie silence,” he said. “Being in close proximity to Newark and Teterboro airports, there were always the late night and early morning sounds of jet engines.

 “But this night was much different,” he continued. “You could hear a pin drop, and every now and then the silence would break from the sound of Air Force planes speeding by in concert.”When the sun rose and his Sept. 12 midnight shift ended, he finally decided to get some sleep.“McDermott and I decided to get a couple hours of rest and then head into the city to see firsthand the destruction and lend a hand if needed,” he said.The pair drove to the Hudson Ferry near Weehawken around 1 p.m., and was then shuttled by bus to Penn Station in New York. Still actively involved in the volunteer fire department, he carried along his fire retardant turnout gear and his helmet.

After arriving in New York, he walked to an area at the Jacob Javits Center and saw firsthand the incredibly large outpouring of supplies and volunteers. Trucks were arriving one at a time, unloading everything from water to dog food. Tents were set up and stations were organized in an effort to direct the hundreds, if not thousands, of medical and emergency responders, laborers, and construction workers that turned out to help in any way they could. 

“McDermott and I spent the better part of the day waiting for assignments, and were able to meet up with fellow Nutley Firefighter Dean Siciliano and several other public safety workers,” he said. “At about 6 p.m., a New York State Trooper invited us into his cruiser and sped us down the West Side Highway with lights and sirens until we approached Ground Zero.“He parted a wall of National Guardsmen that allowed us entry into the restricted area where we were let out,” he continued. “It was truly like entering a futuristic war zone, with mountains of debris all around us. Everywhere you looked there was smoldering debris, and many hot spots.

There were generators and machinery working, and hardhats and fire personnel everywhere. There were tall stanchions with floodlights shining down on volunteers who were working on twisted steel I-beams. On the perimeter of the area, tables were set up with volunteers offering everything from sandwiches to flashlights with batteries, sneakers, candy, respirators and dog food.

”Montanari questioned the need for so much dog food, but soon learned the answer when he saw many dogs with protectively-wrapped paws searching and sniffing the area for survivors. They would only find remains. “We were here. Now what?” Montanari recalls thinking to himself upon arriving at Ground Zero. “No direction, no foremen, no leaders? I thought how insignificant we were and how little we had to offer.”But as they approached the rubble, they joined in a long line of workers that were passing orange buckets from The Home Depot along in a long chain, slowly removing debris. “Heavy equipment could be operated only as directed, fearful of hurting any survivors.”The Nutley personnel joined what would come to be known as the “Bucket Brigade” and spent  hours in grueling conditions doing what little they could to help out.“We continued long after fatigue set in,” he remembered. “Our necks cramped, our backs ached, and our hands were numb from the thin wire and heavy weight of the buckets. It was hot and difficult to breath.

We were wearing heavy protective gear, helmets, and cotton facemasks and would have given anything for a breath of fresh air.“Every hour or so,” Montanari recalled, “the line would stop and remain silent as a body was recovered and transported to a makeshift morgue nearby.”After the excruciatingly tiresome night was over and daylight broke, Montanari was able to see more clearly the extent of the destruction. 

“We took notice of soot-covered cars, scores of emergency equipment parked prior to the towers collapsing, shattered storefronts, buildings missing glass windows, and we were cautious as we walked near buildings that appeared near collapse. Our imaginations led us to believe everything was leaning and about to fall.”As the night shift ended, Montanari and McDermott walked out, passing fresh volunteers and responders arriving for the day.

Heavy trucks continued to cart off the debris.Reporters and supporters, witnesses, bystanders and volunteers, all lined the streets out of Ground Zero. “Several were holding cardboard posters with sayings on them, like ‘Thank You’ and ‘We Love You,’  he said. “It was a chilling moment for us because in reality we felt our contributions were small and not worthy of the appreciation that was being offered as we walked slowly with heavy gear in our hands toward the ferry terminal.”After arriving back at their cars in the ferry lot in Jersey City, McDermott and Montanari took a moment to reflect, still able to see the cloud of smoke that covered the area across the Hudson.

 “Through a combination of exhaustion, sadness and disbelief, we all agreed that this experience was truly heart-wrenching, and was like living through a horrible dream. It became a reality. “Although this event took place ten years ago,” Montanari said, “the impact and the affect of the 9/11 attacks on each one of us is burned into our memories.”And will never be forgotten.