`IT PUT US IN TOUCH WITH OUR MORTALITY' SHARED GRIEF KNOWS NO BOUNDARIES.

Byline: CAROL ROCK Staff Writer

SANTA CLARITA - Each one came back a changed man.

The more than 200 firefighters from Santa Clarita stations who took turns five years ago traveling to New York to support their own, will never be the same.

``Our first response was whatever you need done, we'll do. You want us to mow the lawn, take the kids to school, fix your house, we're there,'' Firefighter Steve Brock said. ``They said come back and be a presence for our fallen firefighters.''

Members of Battalion 6 went at their own expense to funeral after funeral for the 343 New York firefighters who died Sept. 11, 2001, when terrorists plowed commercial planes into their city's landmark World Trade Center, collapsing the famed twin towers.

``They couldn't believe we'd come from so far away,'' Los Angeles County Fire Capt. Tony Clift said. ``We were there to listen and we did a lot of that.

Their hosts feared nobody would be at the church because the fire stations couldn't be abandoned.

``A fireman's funeral in New York is a huge event,'' Firefighter Simon Sage said. ``Thousands of people turn out. But there were so many funerals, and so many men lost that they couldn't go to the funerals and cover their station.''

The local team was united in its desire to honor the fallen firefighters, brothers in their profession, and to help their families and the men who survived.

``Everybody remembers where they were when they heard. The first thought we had was, `How can we help?''' said Sage. ``We realized that the mission turned quickly from a rescue to a recovery mission and there was no need to go back for that.

``When it happened, my wife didn't ask, she just said, `You have to go,''' he said.

``Mine just looked at me and asked, `When are you leaving?''' Brock added.

One of the first things Capt. Dana Provost heard from a New York firefighter when he said he was from Los Angeles County was, ``I knew you'd come.''

``We didn't know what to expect when we went back. We were there to do anything, to clean their rigs, sweep the station, whatever they needed,'' Provost said. ``We had no idea if they needed help. We weren't there to help the incident, we were there to help the firefighters.''

Each group that flew east tried to cover as many funerals as possible, sometimes attending 12 to 15 a week. One group did seven funerals in five days.

``We'd hit the floor at 6 a.m., have breakfast and head out to the funerals,'' Sage said. ``We would take a map and decide who was going where, some to Manhattan, some to Staten Island, some in New Jersey.''

In the lobby of Station 126 near the Valencia mall, a replica firefighter's helmet with the number 343 emblazoned on the front sits atop a book ``The Brotherhood,'' a book of photographs documenting the massive toll taken by FDNY by the attacks of Sept. 11, 2001. A bright morning shot of the New York skyline with the World Trade Towers intact graces the back of the display case.

The turnout after that day seemed to ignore city, state and international boundaries.

``I saw guys there from my old brigade in Dublin,'' Brock said with a slight Irish lilt to his voice. ``There were guys from Florida, Canada, all over. It opened our eyes, all these people converging on New York without even asking why. You just came.''

What floored the visiting firefighters wasn't so much the devastation, but the grace under pressure they saw in every station.

``If you showed up, they were gracious in the midst of chaos and mayhem,'' Clift said. ``We couldn't do anything for ourselves, they wanted to help us. It brought us together.

``It was humbling, that's for sure. The guys in the station were absolutely gracious and people in town were amazing.''

The firefighters also attended ``coalitions'' after funerals -- a gathering similar to a wake -- and ended up being sounding boards for the firemen.

``They were having funerals and sometimes they didn't even have bodies. Afterwards, we would stay and talk with them, they would invite us to dinner and we'd talk some more and they would laugh,'' Firefighter Byron Sayre said. ``Some of them said it was the first time they laughed since it happened and this was weeks later.''

Clift said that his group split up to visit stations 107 in the Bronx and 307 in Queens, meeting up at ground zero afterward.

``As we walked into the hole, people were talking about what happened at their respective stations, then suddenly we noticed that it got dead quiet -- all we could hear was the wrecking ball hitting what buildings were left.

``It was very eerie. The ground was still smoking. The stores were open, but vacant. It was like we were walking in a city that was a ghost town.''

It was the talking that provided the salve desperately needed.

``Most of the firefighters wanted to get their mind off reality, said Sayre. ``They wanted to know how our department did things, not much talk about the day.''

``They outgave us,'' Provost said. ``They were hurting and tired and they gave us more than we gave them.''

Some said they felt a little guilty going in to ground zero, but each one knew it was important to be there for the stories and the tears.

``Some of them didn't want to go home, they said their neighbors next door wouldn't understand,'' Provost said. ``It was therapeutic to have someone -- it didn't matter from where, just another firefighter -- that would understand.''

In stark contrast to the flower-festooned doorsteps shown on national news and in tribute publications, these men also went to stations where there was nothing. No candles, no flowers, no teddy bears, just a wrenching grief for missing firefighters ripped from their station families.

``It really brought it home,'' Provost said.

Five years later, the lessons of 9-11 are visible in tighter security procedures and recognizing the danger of the job they consider an everyday routine.

``It opened our eyes to how vulnerable we are, as a people and a nation,'' Sayre said. ``Now we have terrorist procedures, we look at some runs a little differently.''

``It made me feel more vulnerable, to want to do my job right and train hard,'' Sage said. ``It gave me a new perspective. We don't see the hazards, we're desensitized. You don't think today could be your last day. We're not bomb-proof, not bullet-proof. It put us in touch with our mortality, which we don't always acknowledge.''

``We are a tighter-knit group now,'' Brock said.

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2 photos

Photo:

(1 -- color) Firefighters Dana Provost, left, and Byron Sayre of county Station 126 in Santa Clarita honor the 343 New York firefighters who died at the World Trade Center on Sept. 11, 2001. Provost and Sayre helped in the subsequent search.

(2 -- color) A shrine commemorating firefighters sits in the lobby of Station 126 in Santa Clarita. More than 200 firefighters from Santa Clarita traveled to New York to attend the funerals in 2001.

Joe Binoya/Special to the Daily News