Tied to 9/11 by family, home - city fire chief remembers attacks

Lance Martin

Herald Senior Staff Writer

ROANOKE RAPIDS - Gary Corbet was far away from his hometown of Middletown Township, N.J., when the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11 occurred.

His heart was there because his brother Doug was there. Like Gary had been in 1990, Doug was the chief of Middletown's volunteer fire department, which has the distinction of being the largest VFD in the world.

Gary, now fire chief in Roanoke Rapids, was working in Franklin, Tenn., when the attacks occurred that morning.

“My memory is more vivid than his because he was involved,” Gary said of his brother Wednesday.

When you're working a disaster scene like the one that occurred that day, “You can't sit and reflect,” Gary said.

The Middletown VFD was dispatched early, units sent to the Middletown train station and the Atlantic Highlands Municipal harbor to set up a communications command post and a hazmat team to decontaminate people, Gary said. “They set up triage. They were not getting patients because they either got out of the scene uninjured or never got out.”

He spent the day in what he describes as “sober reflection.”

Like many people, Gary was caught up in the coverage, the images, the shock. “It affected me greatly,” he said. “I was glued to the TV for a few days. My chief was very perceptive. He noticed me moping around.”

The chief asked him if he wanted to go. Gary declined because he felt authorities didn't need freelancers adding to accountability problems .

“The guys in Middletown got a call the next day,” Gary said.

They were called to help search and recovery efforts the day after and were on standby for three days. They also learned one of their own, a Port Authority police officer, Kenny Tietjen, died when one of the towers of the World Trade Center collapsed.

Tietjen's death would not be the only one to choke the emotions of the township. Thirty-nine people from Middletown, mostly commuting workers, died that day. With exception of New York City, the attacks claimed the lives of more Middletown residents than any other community.

“The town itself has done a good job of memorializing the citizens who were lost,” Gary said. “There are unofficial memorials. There is an official memorial.”

Developers name subdivision streets in honor of those who died and there are parks named in their honor.

As a native of the area, the feelings of the people of Middletown that day were probably similar to those of people across the nation, not knowing where another attack might take place, not knowing what else the terrorists had planned.

Coming from a family of firefighters and a firefighter himself, there were more stark thoughts, Gary said.

While the deaths and what-ifs were the things most concentrated on - 343 firefighters and 50 police officers killed - people don't remember, “Tens of thousands of lives were saved and marshaled to safety. That's what we should reflect upon.”

From the Leonardo Beach at Sandy Hook Bay before Sept. 11, you could always see the South Tower, Gary said. “When I go to the beach it's still eerie to not see the tower. It's still a sobering thought, the same way people who remember Pearl Harbor feel.”

Seven years later, Gary believes people have let their guard down and the hero worship of firefighters has diminished. “Every firefighter was a hero,” he said. “It got uncomfortable for many firefighters. Is that what it takes for people to notice us? That you have firefighters die. You have a hundred firefighters that die every year under no less heroic circumstances than the 343 in New York.”

People have forgotten, he said. “We've forgotten about what we felt about ourselves. It's sad it didn't last.”