In The Line Of Duty...
Queens Mourns Bravest,
Prays For 'Miracle'

By LIZ GOFF

Firefighters gathered outside Ladder Co. 163 in Woodside this week, sharing memories and grief over the death of Firefighter John Downing, one of three Queens Bravest killed in a blast at an Astoria hardware store on June 17.

Firefighters Brian Fahey and Harry Ford of Queens Rescue 4 also perished in the blaze at Long Island Paint Supply, at 12-22 Astoria Blvd.

Police in Astoria are probing the cause of the fire – and the possibility of charges in the incident. Investigators now believe that the blaze might have been accidental, as initially reported. The probe is now focused on two teens who have told police they were scrawling graffiti on the wall of the hardware store, spotted gasoline and spilled it – letting it seep underneath the door of the hardware store.

The gasoline is believed to have set off a series of deadly consequences. Fumes played havoc with lethal materials in the basement – fumes that ignited when a hot water heater sparked as it turned on.

Memorial flowers and black and blue bunting adorn Rescue Co.4 Tribune Photo By Dee Richard

The first units arrived at 2:20 p.m., and in five minutes firefighters called a second alarm, officials said. Four minutes later, they called a fourth alarm – then a fifth. Thirteen minutes later the building exploded, trapping firefighters inside, blowing others outside, and sending a wall crashing onto Astoria Boulevard. Brian Fahey was trapped beneath a staircase inside the basement, where officials said "waves of flames" were engulfing the structure. Ford and Downing were crushed underneath the wall that collapsed along with Firefighter Joseph Vosilla of Ladder Co. 116 in Long Island City.

Rescue efforts were in vain for Fahey, Ford and Downing. Vosilla was rushed to Elmhurst Hospital Center with grave injuries. Doctors operated on the Long Island City resident to stabilize his condition, but other lifesaving surgery had to wait until Tuesday, June 19, when Vosillo’s condition stabilized enough to let doctors perform the required surgery.

The bunting is hung and the flags are at half-staff in Woodside, as the city prepared to bury its Bravest. And in Long Island City, a neighborhood holds its breath and prays for a miracle.

He could have been a contender. When the young man with the bright Irish smile made his career choice, he could have signed with a major league baseball team as a pitcher, or signed-on with the New York City Fire Department.

"He was scouted by the majors," said Msgr. Timothy Finnerty of St. Sebastian’s R.C. Church in Woodside – Downing’s family parish.

"He was a fabulous pitcher, with a dynamic fastball." Finnerty said Downing was a tremendous athlete. "He could have gone to the pros," Finnerty said.

Downing was born in Woodside on Jan. 15, 1961, one of seven children of Irish-American parents who set down roots in the Queens neighborhood.

Finnerty said Downing, like his brothers and sisters, was baptized at St. Sebastian’s. He attended the parish elementary school, received communion and was confirmed at St. Sebastian’s. Downing went on to attend St. Francis Prep in Fresh Meadows.

"John was a fine, fine man," Finnerty said. "He was married at St. Sebastian’s. His mother, Josephine, is a daily participant at mass here." Finnerty said Downing’s father passed away five years ago, and that his mother remained at the family home.

"It’s too bad we have to have a tragedy to appreciate the greatness and goodness of our firefighters," Finnerty said.

"Look around," he said, "New York City is alive. The hotels are full of tourists, the restaurants are bustling. The city is safe, clean, beautiful.

"I think of the men who provide the services that make this possible, and I wonder why we don’t thank them each day."

Finnerty said the city’s firefighters are "silent heroes" who respond when the alarm sounds, without question. "They don’t ask if this is a good guy or a bad guy – they just respond.

"If anything good comes out of this terrible tragedy, I hope it is our realization of the goodness of people like John Downing."

Three neighborhood women approached firefighters outside Downing’s Engine Co. 163 this week, offering condolences and expressing shock over Downing’s death – the man fondly admired in Woodside as the "Gentle Giant."

One woman glanced at the men and, in a whisper, asked, "Is there anything sadder than the wail of bagpipes mourning a hero?"

One of the men replied, "Yes, mourning three heroes."

Finnerty said he will remember Downing for his "intelligence, bravery, his Irish way.

"The whole community is in mourning," he added. "John was the cream that rises to the top."

"Pray for them," was all the firefighter said as he walked solemnly into the chilly darkness of the house on Queens Boulevard.

It was 2:20 a.m. on June 18 – 12 hours after firefighters from Queens’ elite Rescue 4 headed out the door to a fire at the hardware store in Astoria. Among those who responded was Harry Ford.

Ford called his wife, Denise, at home just before the alarm came in. His sons, ages 12 and 10, wishes him a Happy Father’s Day. It was the last time they would speak.

"He was the kind of guy you would go to for help if you were in trouble," said fellow firefighters. "He was a pitbull – determined and dedicated."

Harry Ford was the recipient of countless awards and citations for bravery during his 27-year FDNY career, but one incident that led to a citation stands above the rest.

Ford responded to a Queens blaze in 1979. "He went in and didn’t come out," firefighters said. "When other firefighters went in to get him, they found him huddled against a wall, unconscious, without his oxygen mask.

When they pulled him away from the wall, the firefighters were startled to see a small girl underneath Ford, his mask on her tiny face. When Ford regained consciousness, he told officials that he felt he was not going to get out of the building. "So he put his mask on the girl and covered her body with his, to shield her from the fire.

"That girl is alive today because Harry Ford was willing to sacrifice his only chance for survival to save her," the firefighters said. "That was his way."

Brian Fahey touched the lives of almost every volunteer firefighter in Nassau County – including Tribune Classified Manager Don Young.

Young recalled Fahey’s dedication to training the volunteers, and described him as a "great guy who would go the extra mile to get things done the right way."

Young saw Fahey just last week, as the 14-year FDNY veteran prepared to instruct a class of volunteers on the ways to stay safe – and protect others during a blaze. Officials at the Nassau County Fire Services Academy said that almost every firefighter in the county knew Fahey. "They all sat through his eight-week course," the officials said.

Fahey’s death was perhaps the most difficult for firefighters at Rescue 4 to accept. They listened on Sunday afternoon, as Fahey called a repeated "Mayday" over their radios, telling whoever was listening that he was tossed to the basement of the store during the blast. "I’m trapped under the stairs," he said. "Please come get me." Rescue was impossible, as firefighters listened to Fahey’s pleas for help.

A deep sorrow fills the Rescue 4 headquarters this week, as firefighters prepare to bury two more of their comrades. Members of the elite unit have lost four comrades in line-of-duty deaths since 1992, and they have witnessed one miracle – the recovery of Marty McTergue who was nearly burned to death, but who fought back to survive.

Firefighters at Ladder Co. 116 in Dutch Kills are praying for a miracle – prayers that are being echoed by residents of the Long Island City enclave.

Vosilla is described as a "hometown boy" by 261 Lt. James O’Donnell. "He is the mayor of Long Island City."

He played softball – lots of softball, O’Donnell said. "He must have played on teams sponsored by every tavern in the neighborhood." Youngsters at local schools who know "Vossy" are praying for his recovery, as well. He has received dozens of drawings and get-well greetings from local schoolchildren who have stopped by the hospital.

Vosilla was crushed by the wall that collapsed onto 14th Street during the June 17 blaze. He was rushed to Elmhurst Hospital Center where doctors stabilized his condition enough to perform preliminary surgery. He was strong enough, on June 19, to undergo additional surgery – but it’s still touch-and-go, doctors said. He suffered – among other injuries – a crushed pelvis, crushed diaphragm, ruptured bladder, perforated bowel, crushed lung and heart contusions.

"We’re praying for a miracle for ‘Vossy,’" said Dutch Kills Civic Association President Bob Wilson. "Along with other firefighters at 261/116, he is a part of our family."

Vosilla was working on his day off on June 7, filling in for another firefighter who wanted to spend some time with his children on Father’s Day. He remains in very critical condition at Elmhurst.

"We’ll keep praying for his miracle," Wilson said.

Theirs is not a "normal" job, like "nine to five-ers," said Thomas De Parma, discussing city firefighters.

DeParma, a Queens trustee of the Uniformed Firefighters Association, told the Tribune in an exclusive interview that, unlike other professions, tragedy does not allow the job of firefighters to "shut down." Members of units and companies where tragedy strikes must grieve and hurry back to work, DeParma said. "But we’re a family and we extended family members jump in to take away some of the burden from the house members in mourning."

DePalma said that firefighters from companies throughout the city have shown up at Rescue 4, Ladder 163, and Ladder 116 on their own time, volunteering their services to allow members of those houses to attend funerals – and in the case of Joseph Vosilla, to sit vigil at the bedside of their "brother."

"It’s just something that firefighters do," DeParma said. "It’s tradition, and it’s one of the ways we help each other to continue to go into burning buildings, not knowing what awaits us.

"It’s just what we do."