http://www.nytimes.com/2010/05/03/ny.../03vendor.html
Vendors Who Alerted Police Called Heroes
By COREY KILGANNON and MICHAEL S. SCHMIDT
Even in Times Square, where little seems unusual, the Nissan Pathfinder parked just off Broadway on the south side of 45th Street — engine running, hazard lights flashing, driver nowhere to be found — looked suspicious to the sidewalk vendors who regularly work this are
Lance Orton, center, who sells T-shirts, said that as a veteran he was proud of his actions. But he spurned most questions.
Related
- Police Seek Man Taped Near Times Sq. Bomb Scene [[May 3, 2010)
- Security Network Planned for Midtown [[May 3, 2010)
- Bomb Scare Reveals Another Side of Times Square [[May 3, 2010)
- Room for Debate: Times Square, Bombs and Big Crowds [[May 3, 2010)
Chip East/Reuters
Duane Jackson, posing Sunday with a tourist, said that the day before he noticed a popping sound and an incendiary smell.
And it was the keen eyes of at least two of them — both disabled Vietnam War veterans who say they are accustomed to alerting local police officers to pickpockets and hustlers — that helped point the authorities to the Pathfinder, illegally and unusually parked next to their merchandise of inexpensive handbags and $2.99 “I Love NY” T-shirts.
Shortly before 6:30 p.m. on Saturday, the vendors — Lance Orton and Duane Jackson, who both served during the Vietnam War and now rely on special sidewalk vending privileges for disabled veterans — said they told nearby officers about the Pathfinder, which had begun filling with smoke and then emitted sparks and popping sounds.
Over the next several hours, numerous firefighters and police officers — from patrol officers to those in specialized units — all did their part in minimizing the potential damage and handling a volatile situation. And on Sunday night, Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg honored one of the officers, Wayne Rhatigan, by taking him to dinner in Times Square.
But in a city hungry for heroes, the spotlight first turned to the vendors. Mr. Orton, a purveyor of T-shirts, ran from the limelight early Sunday morning as he spurned reporters’ questions while gathering his merchandise on a table near where the Pathfinder was parked.
When asked if he was proud of his actions, Mr. Orton, who said he had been selling on the street for about 20 years, replied: “Of course, man. I’m a veteran. What do you think?”
Mr. Jackson, on the other hand, embraced his newfound celebrity, receiving an endless line of people congratulating him while he sold cheap handbags, watches and pashmina scarves all day Sunday.
He told and retold his story to tourists, reporters and customers: how he heard the “pop, pop, pop” coming from the vehicle, and then detected “the smell of a cherry bomb or firecracker or something.”
“There are a bunch of us disabled vets selling here, and we’re used to being vigilant because we all know that freedom isn’t free,” said Mr. Jackson, 58, of Buchanan, N.Y.
“All of us vets here are the eyes and ears for the cops,” he said. “Whether it’s three-card monte games or thieves, we know the cops here by first name — we have their cell numbers,” said Mr. Jackson, who said that he had been a street vendor many years.
He spoke of his time in the Vietnam War — he served in the Navy from 1970 to 1973 aboard the aircraft carrier Ranger — and how as a street vendor he tended to a table near the World Trade Center during both the bombing in 1993 and the terrorist attack in 2001.
Officer Rhatigan was reserved about his role. He told reporters of the team effort involved — he referred to “guys with bomb suits” as “incredible heroes” — and recalled his first thoughts as he approached the Pathfinder.
He said the vehicle “reeked of gunpowder” and seemed oddly abandoned — “a little bit more than just a parked car with a cigarette in the ashtray.”
“It was just a combined effort of everybody,” he added. “That’s what we do.”
The first firefighters who arrived were responding to a report of a car fire at the site, but realized upon arrival that explosives could be in the vehicle, said Tom Meara, a battalion chief, who was at the scene.
Lt. Mike Barvels of Engine Company 54, also at the scene, said firefighters moved people away and readied fire hoses, but then decided to leave the vehicle untouched since the popping and sparking indicated the possible presence of a bomb.
“We took a defensive position and cleared people away,” Lieutenant Barvels said.
On 45th Street on Sunday, tourists seemed aware of the vendors’ role in alerting the police. Mr. Orton was not working at his usual spot, but Mr. Jackson was.
At his vending table, one tourist, Wayne Jackson, a self-described born-again Christian from Saskatchewan, prayed with Mr. Jackson for several minutes and asked God to “alert us to more attempts on this brave country.”
Several police officers, in bulletproof vests, shook the vendor’s hand. A woman with a British accent rushed up and said: “Are you the one who saved us? Thank you.”
“It could have been a lot worse,” Mr. Jackson told a bank of television cameras and then turned to say to a customer, “That’s $8 on the watches.”
As for Mr. Orton, he rested on Sunday at a relative’s house, leaving others to talk on his behalf. “When he was in Vietnam, he said they had to make decisions and judgments from their gut, from their own feelings,” said Miriam Cintron, the mother of Mr. Orton’s son. “His instinct was telling him something’s not right. I guess he was right.”
She said Mr. Orton would mediate disputes between the police and other vendors, and when something did not look right, he would alert the police. “He always said, ‘Downtown is where they’re going to come to, and I’m going to be right there,’ ” Ms. Cintron said.
When Mr. Orton left Times Square about 7 a.m. on Sunday, he did so to a hero’s reception. As he walked down the street, employees from Junior’s restaurant stood outside applauding him. He briefly entered the restaurant before heading toward 44th Street.
Using a cane and wearing a white fedora, Mr. Orton limped away and hopped a cab home to the Bronx, but not before repeating a terror-watch mantra: “See something, say something.”
Bookmarks