Beleaguered New York firefighters mourn one of their own

NEW YORK -- "If you want to make God laugh, tell him what you're doing tomorrow."

That's what the Rev. Mychal Judge -- Father Mike, the Fire Department chaplain -- used to tell firefighters who sought his counsel. It's what those same firefighters told each other Thursday as they mourned the department's worst loss since its first engine companies were formed in 1865.

Hundreds of firefighters are missing after Tuesday's terrorist attack on the World Trade Center.

The casualties included Father Mike and seven men, presumed dead, from Engine Co. One/Ladder Co. 24 in midtown Manhattan. The unit is across from St. Francis of Assisi Church, where Father Mike lived in the friary with his Franciscan brothers.

On Thursday, the 68-year-old priest was laid out in a coffin at the church, wearing his brown monk's robe, his fire helmet by his side, as mourners paid their final respects.

"God was taking 250 firefighters up to heaven, and he needed someone there to help him," said firefighter Brian Thomas. "That's the only way you can rationalize what happened to Father Mike."

For many of the firefighters, it was their first opportunity to mourn the comrades lost when terrorists slammed two hijacked planes into the World Trade Center.

All 13,000 of New York City's firefighters are working around the clock: 24 hours at their neighborhood post, 24 hours at the disaster scene, looking for survivors in the ruins.

"The firefighters of this city are not going to give up until every effort is made to rescue every firefighter or every civilian who might be in the rubble," said Harold Schaitberger, president of the International Association of Firefighters.

"This was the darkest day in the history of the firefighters of the world. It will change every one of our lives forever."

Father Mike used to sleep with a radio scanner in his room, and often ate across the street in the firehouse. He responded along with the unit to Tuesday's disaster. The twin towers were still standing when he arrived. Father Mike paused to administer last rites to a firefighter mortally injured by a falling body.

"He took his hat off to pray, and something came down and hit him in the head," said retired Battalion Chief Bob McGrath.

The collapse of the towers claimed the lives of a portion of the department's top brass. Scores of Fire Department retirees and disabled pensioners have been called back to work to fill the leadership void.

Men from the firehouse opposite St. Francis went back and forth all day between the disaster scene and the church. As one truckload of ash-covered workers returned from the ruins, another with fresh recruits took off.

Outside the firehouse, New Yorkers left dozens of bouquets, candles and cards. A small wooden cross was erected on the firehouse door; it held the words, "God rest our fallen brothers."

On Saturday, Father Mike had officiated at the wedding of firefighter Kenneth DeFranco and his bride, Ann Marie. Both of their fathers were firefighters. They were scheduled to leave Tuesday on their honeymoon; the terrorist attack canceled their plans.

"But our problems are not important now," said DeFranco, standing outside the wake. In a way, he added, it was a blessing that Father Mike had been among the first to fall.