THE signposts of Madison Square as it appeared in the mid-’60s are fewer and fewer. The luster has been restored to the Flatiron Building. A gleaming apartment tower is climbing to the sky at Madison and 23rd Street. On the east side of Broadway, at 23rd Street, a high-rise condominium has replaced an entire blockfront of low buildings.
But a vestige of that era remains affixed to the facade of the condominium on Broadway, a plaque that stands as a haunting reminder of a tragic event.
It was on the site of that building — “a sacred place,” a Fire Department chaplain called it the other day — that 12 firefighters died when a floor in a drugstore collapsed as they battled a nighttime blaze.
At the time, Oct. 17, 1966, it was the largest loss of firefighters’ lives in the department’s history, though it was eclipsed by the deaths of 343 members at the World Trade Center.
The tragedy is forgotten by many, especially on unmemorable anniversaries like the 42nd, but not by many in the Fire Department. And for those involved in keeping the memory alive, it is a sad but stirring event.
Every year on the anniversary of the blaze, current and former firefighters along with relatives of the 12 gather in front of the plaque, which is on a wall next to a French hair salon.
This year’s ceremony, which took place on a brisk, sunny Friday, began with bagpipers playing a mournful dirge. The city’s top uniformed firefighter, Salvatore Cassano, who is the chief of department, said the department was again fulfilling, for those 12, “a solemn promise that their memories will never be forgotten.”
One of those at the ceremony was a white-haired man in his 70s who still carries the memories of that night. By the time he retired from the department, he was Capt. Manny Fernandez. But in 1966, he was Fireman Fernandez, the driver of Engine 18. His initial job was to hook the pumper up to a hydrant — one “right where that pole is,” he recalled, gesturing to the curb — while his comrades raced inside. There, all of them died when the floor of a drugstore collapsed into a flaming basement.
Hearing a crash, Fireman Fernandez raced into the building. “I saw guys running out, one guy rolling on the floor,” he recalled. “I was crazy, yelling, ‘Eighteen, 18.’ ” But all he saw through the thick smoke, he said, were “some feet, some boots.”
The bodies were not recovered until the next day.