By elaine van develde
Staff Writer
VERONICA YANKOWSKI Keeper of the 9/11 victims’ list, Middletown Police Detective Sgt. Joe Capriotti sits at his desk and reflects on his job in the past year.
He was the face on the other side of the door that opened with trepidation when a Middletown police car pulled into a driveway. He was the voice on the other end of the phone line that had nothing but bad news to bear. He is Detective Sgt. Joe Capriotti. He had a calling to be a cop. Still, official police calls were never easy and just got harder after Sept. 11.
The 20-year veteran is one of 110 police officers in a town that has become the worldwide poster child for suburbia in the wake of Sept. 11.
The unfortunate reason Middletown is now on everyone’s map: 32 full-time residents — commuters to jobs in New York — perished in the terrorist attack on the World Trade Center.
What has become Middletown, USA, is a 40-square mile suburb that 70,000 people call home, many of them after a day of work in the city.
It’s also a town where a police force, by default, had to start taking death tolls of its residents one bright crisp dark day in America.
Capriotti was the keeper of the list. He’ll modestly tell you that it was just his job. He’s also quick to cite that others were there helping and he’s last in line to take credit or attract attention.
But he does attract attention. It’s because he’s a cop of a different kind. And what his warm eyes have seen beyond that list in the past year is tantamount to 32 funerals on instant replay.
"The horror is what I carry with me and will forever," said Capriotti. "It was heart-wrenching — a swirl of emotions that I’ve never experienced before and never will again. But my burden is minor compared to what the [Sept. 11] victims’ families are going through."
And he saw a great deal of what they were and are going through from the first day. "We found out what happened," Capriotti said. "Then we started to see all the cars left at the train station [about 200] and started getting calls and compiling a list of the missing. Lt. Mike Rubino was very instrumental in spearheading everything. We started collecting DNA samples — toothbrushes, combs, dental records. And, of course, there were names. We also went to Ground Zero. It was the most devastating sight I’ve ever seen. It made it very real. There were faces — real family members — behind the names on that list, and they were lost in that rubble."
After two trips to Ground Zero, Capriotti was back at his desk in the detective bureau in Middletown. "It was the natural choice for Joe to be in charge of the list," said Police Chief John Pollinger. "Partly, it was a choice by default. He was a supervisor in the detective bureau. But he also had that unique, perfect balance of professionalism and compassion."
Capriotti walked the tight rope and hasn’t fallen off yet. He made those calls.
Usually, he said, he’d first call a network of friends of affected families through the organization Friends Assisting Victims of terror (FAVOR) if there was news. He’d ask the people associated with the particular family how they were doing to prepare for what was on the other side of their door when he rang the bell. Then he’d call a member of the local clergy to take with him. Then he’d drive to the home with a clergy member in tow. "What can I say? Before you ring the doorbell, you take a gulp and stand up straight," Capriotti said. "I’ve done it before, notifying a family after an accident or something like that, but never for this reason or in this magnitude."
What Capriotti was greeted with on the other side of the door ranged from anger and lashing out to tears to hours-long talks.
Most of the 14 victims found at the World Trade Center site out of the 32 on the list were husbands, young women with children, or who had children on the way. Some Capriotti visited more than once. Victims’ remains were found over and over again months after the attacks.
"There is no easy way to tell someone something like that," he said. "God, they’ve grieved, and then they’d have to grieve over and over again." Most families left behind were widows with children, he said.
"One woman was expecting a baby. She had a lot of difficulty with the birth. I would guess this probably had a lot to do with it."
Capriotti sat with her for three hours, he said. Whatever it took to help put people on the path to mending.
Besides the young husbands and wives with children separated by Sept. 11, there were a host of other relationships torn by the terrorist attack, too, Capriotti said.
He’s haunted by the grief-stricken stare of a father who sat in front of the television awaiting word of his missing young daughter who worked at the Trade Center. There was no solace as he scrambled for information on the Internet and staved off his sorrow in silence.
"I’ll never forget seeing that poor man staring at the television when I arrived. He was just trying to understand why this happened and why anyone would hurt his little girl. He desperately tried to make some sense of it all," Capriotti recalled.
Another special relationship destroyed that day was that of a man and his younger deaf brother. The man got a job at the Trade Center through a family friend who was also killed Sept. 11.
That young man was Nicholas Pietrunti, who left behind his brother, John. "Nicky was so excited to have a job at Cantor Fitzgerald," said Capriotti. "A family friend, Paul Nimbley, got Nicky a job as a clerk. He loved it. He would work long hours and was extremely dedicated." The Pietruntis felt certain that Nicky didn’t die alone. They were sure that Paul would have never left the building without him. Nicky’s remains were found about three weeks ago. A week and a half later, Paul Nimbley was found. The family is sure it was no coincidence. That’s their only solace.
There are also children of Middletown without a mother. A single mom Capriotti knew died at the Trade Center. She left behind her parents and two children. And the list and its sorrow goes on.
Capriotti just considers being a messenger, a voice for the lost, part of his job. The message of Sept. 11 was not a routine one for him to carry, though. Goodwill is, however, routine for Capriotti. In fact, he won an Employee of the Year award from Middletown Township for his work this past year. He almost missed the ceremony because he was tending to another charity, Pollinger said.
The past year has worn on Capriotti, he admits. He’s had bouts of depression, but he’s been there and stayed there for people in whatever capacity he’s needed. "Joe looks and acts the same on the outside, but I know this has tugged on him inside this year," Pollinger said. "He’s a special person and police officer."
Still modest, Capriotti reiterated, "I was just doing my job. We had a whole crew of police officers knocking on doors offering help. I just kept the list. It was all part of what I signed on to do when I became a cop. Now my kids have seen the absolute worst of this job. I’m most proud that it has not made them run away but, instead, seriously consider being a cop. That’s another source of pride worth it all."
The list is still being whittled away at. More than half of the victims have not yet been identified. The official police call for Capriotti has become understanding the calling to be a cop.