October 2001–One month after 9/11. “Mayor Greco, we could have a catastrophe coming,” said the voice on the other end of the phone. It was then-Tampa Police Captain Jane Castor, and her voice was filled with dread. The FBI just contacted her, she told Greco. They told her that a ship was on its way to Tampa with al-Qaeda and two nuclear devices–and they were not sure if they were trying to smuggle them into the United States through Tampa or if they planned on detonating them in the city because it is home to Central Command.
haps, he thought, it would all just suddenly end. Perhaps everyone in Tampa would soon be dead. Hours later, while Greco nervously sat on the edge of his bed, his phone finally rang and he received the good news he’d been praying to hear. Castor told him that they tracked down the ship that was suspected of carrying the devices, boarded it and found nothing. Either the threat was false or the order was cancelled. Either way, Tampa was safe. Greco said that when he hung up, he began to sob. Some of
“It could have been a false threat,” explained Greco, “and if we told everyone in Tampa about it, the mass hysteria caused by the news could have gotten out of hand. Besides, if the devices were detonated, no one really could have gotten far enough away to be safe. If they were detonated, I think we were all dead.” Greco said he swallowed hard and tried to maintain his composure as his dinner guests at Tampa’s world-famous Bern’s Steakhouse were looking over their dessert menus, discussing what to order while they sipped on their expensive wine. Castor didn’t need to tell Greco that this news was confidential, so he politely excused himself from the table and walked outside so they could talk in private. Castor informed him that the specific type of nuclear device was unknown, but Tampa’s Joint Terrorism Task Force (JTTF)–a federal task force comprised of FBI and federal, state and local law enforcement agencies of which she was a part–were handling the situation. A federal helicopter with a nuclear detection device was flying over every ship on its way to Tampa and countless law enforcement officers with the JTTF were waiting at the port, ready to search every ship that docked. The JTTF was told by the federal government that they were not to make the threat public. “It could have been a false threat,” explained Greco, “and if we told everyone in Tampa about it, the mass hysteria caused by the news could have gotten out of hand. Besides, if the devices were detonated, no one really could have gotten far enough away to be safe. If they were detonated, I think we were all dead.” There was nothing he could do to help; all he could do was wait. “After I told him everything, his response was the same as everyone’s,” said Castor, who is currently the Tampa police chief. “He had no response. He had no point of reference for how to react to an incident like that. No one did.” Greco said he returned to his dinner table and tried to act like nothing was wrong, which was driving him crazy. He said for the rest of the night his mind was so focused on his phone, waiting for it to ring with news, that the world was mute to him. Mouths were moving. Feet were trampling. The piano was playing. Glasses and silverware were clinking. Doors were slamming. But Greco heard none of it. His mind was focused on his cell phone sitting in his lap. He was staring at it, waiting for it to ring again, waiting for Castor to tell him everything was ok. Or, per-
the sobs were part of a normal emotional release following such a traumatic evening. And some of the sobs were due to the realization that there were some threats to the city about which he could do nothing. His greatest attribute had always been his ability to handle every situation through sheer force of personality. He could sit down with anyone, talk with them and find a way to solve their problem. But he couldn’t talk with the terrorists. They are faceless cowards hiding in the shadows. And even if he could talk with them, he knew they don’t think logically. For the first time in his life, Greco felt helpless, an emotion that would only increase in the coming months, as everyday was consumed with something terrorist-related. “For a while, every day I was at a meeting discussing something about terrorists,” said Greco. “It was crazy. The day after 9/11, I got a call from Police Chief Benny Holder and he said we had to go over some of the potential dangers the city faced. So we got together and had to discuss what we would do if they blew up the chlorine tanks we had in the port or if they sunk a ship in our channel because that meant other ships couldn’t get through. Or, how would we react to an anthrax attack? And oh my God, my phone kept ringing with new scenarios we had to be prepared to handle. “And then we had to start worrying about our Middle Eastern population. We were getting tips about people wanting to attack our Middle Eastern-owned establishments and businesses like convenience stores, restaurants, temples, doctor’s offices, gas stations and so on. Some people wanted to kill every Middle Eastern resident in Tampa so we had to make sure the police were looking after them. “People would make appointments to see me and sit in my office and ask me if they should be worried about anthrax. Some of these people were 80 years old or older and they’d never had to worry about anything like this before. So I’d have to calm them and tell them everything was ok, but I had no idea if everything would be ok. It was all new to me too. But I’d tell them not to worry anyway.” For the first few months after 9/11, Greco said he rarely ever slept. SePteMBer/OCtOBer 2010
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