By Zachary D. Roberts
By Anna Merlan
By Jon Campbell and Laura Shunk
By Albert Samaha
By Amanda Dingyuan
By Anna Merlan
By Anna Merlan
By Albert Samaha
In the public version of FDNY lieutenant Neil Brosnan's retelling of his 9-11 experience, there are blank spots. First, Brosnan talks about racing to the scene: "We were blocked out. We tried to move traffic." Then there are three lines blacked out. "This was reported to the police detectives on my interview with them," he continues. "We thought it was unusual." Later on, his questioner restarts the tape after having closed the session. "Tell me that again," the questioner bids. Brosnan speaks. The next 40 lines are blacked out. Only the questioner's words are visible, when he says, "Yes. That is unusual."
Rudy Giuliani is the mayor associated with the day of 9-11, but Michael Bloomberg has been the chief executive of its aftermath. The attacks transformed the 2001 mayoral race, left ruins still smoldering at his inauguration, and fueled the fiscal crisis that the new mayor faced.
But Brosnan's oral history and the 510 others recently released are also part of the Bloomberg record on 9-11. His administration fought hard to keep the public from seeing those oral histories or hearing the tapes of FDNY dispatch radio. Only a lawsuit by The New York Times and several victims' families (who also unsuccessfully sought to have emergency 911 call tapes released) forced their disclosure. City Hall even hedged at providing the oral histories and dispatchers' tapes to researchers from the National Institute of Standards and Technology and the 9-11 Commission, resisting requests for the data for months, being threatened with a subpoena, and then allowing researchers only limited access to the information under a signed agreement.
And when the 9-11 Commission actually came to New York City, Bloomberg didn't exactly bake a cake. On its first visit in spring 2003, Bloomberg welcomed the panel, proclaiming that the city's 9-11 response was "swift, massive, heroic, and extraordinarily effective." The police and fire commissioners were supposed to testify separately. But the mayor surprised the commission by bringing Ray Kelly and Nick Scoppetta with him. "Unfortunately," the mayor explained, "both of these guys have an awful lot to do."
Schedule problems struck again in May 2004, when the commission returned to New York. Bloomberg's commissioners answered a combined 28 queries from the panel. Giuliani's questioning by the panel runs 12,000 words in the official transcript. But Bloomberg answered no questions. Commission spokesman Al Felzenberg says the panel was trying to accommodate the mayor's schedule, and adds, "There were really no questions to ask him." City Hall says it offered to take questions but was bumped by Homeland Security secretary Tom Ridge. Somehow the commission did find time to quiz the likes of author Dennis Smith and Edward Plaugher, a Virginia fire chief.
"All I can remember is that we did have a good deal of trouble with New York City," says 9-11 commission member Slade Gorton, a former Republican senator from Washington. There was the fuss about the documents, the switcheroo with Kelly and Scoppetta"the staff had not prepared the appropriate questions," says Gortonand Bloomberg's escaping with no questions the second time.
"You would always prefer that any witness that comes before you would answer questions," says Gorton. "Do I remember thinking that it was overwhelmingly damaging? My answer would be no. I think it was our position at that time that we had learned everything that we were going to learn. It was probably frustrating to the people in the news media."
Certainly, the commission staff was able to question the mayor and his commissioners privately. But the purpose of public hearings is, of course, to make things public, which is why commission chairman Tom Kean insisted that Condi Rice testify publicly. That brings us back to those oral histories.
Brosnan is not the only one whose account was redacted. Firefighter Paul Beck's first few dozen words are censored. There's another blackout after Battalion Chief Thomas Vallebuona is asked about radio transmissions. And when a questioner asks for final thoughts from Assistant Commissioner Stephen Gregorythe man in charge of FDNY communications at the time of the disasterall we see is a page and a half of black blocks.
The court allowed the city to omit sections that would cause "serious pain and embarrassment" if disclosed, and firefighters had a chance to review their own histories before their release, so it's unclear who made these redactions or why. But the omissions are why Norman Siegel, the lawyer for the families who intervened in the Times lawsuit, says he might go back to court and ask that the city justify its cuts.
In court filings, the city argued that the FDNY materials were exempt from disclosure under the Freedom of Information law. First, releasing them would invade the speakers' privacy. Next, there was the case of alleged 20th hijacker Zacarias Moussaoui: The city said federal prosecutors wanted to use some of the FDNY material in the death penalty phase of his trial, andremarkablywere worried about "the very real likelihood of tainting the jury pool." Finally, the city claimed an "intra-agency exemption which protects material which is non-factual and not a final determination," including those sections that "contain opinions as to the effectiveness of the departmental response to the WTC incident and suggestions as to future conduct in similar large-scale disasters." Those, of course, were exactly the things that NIST, the 9-11 Commission, and the press wanted to learn about.