Emotional appeals for help are followed by rapid response from the police, according to phone calls and radio transmissions.

08:32 AM EST on Friday, November 7, 2003

BY MARK ARSENAULT and ZACHARY R. MIDER
Journal Staff Writers

The first word comes from Patrolman Anthony Bettencourt, working an off-duty detail at The Station nightclub.

"Send the Fire Department!" he yells into his radio just after 11 p.m. "Six-two to headquarters! Can you send the Fire Department?"

Dispatcher Carlos Arenas responds: "Affirmative."

More calls follow in a burst of tense voices:

"Stampede!"

"Send more cars."

Dispatch puts out the word, using the club's former name: "Ten-four. All cars, Filling Station."

From the scene, a cry for help: "We're gonna need multiple rescues."

The answer: "We have all units responding. We have Warwick and Coventry responding also."

"We got multiple people trapped! We're just dragging them out one by one!"

THE URGENT snippets recorded late Feb. 20 at The Station nightclub fire give a behind-the-scenes glimpse of how the West Warwick police responded in the opening minutes of the disaster, an unprecedented event for the department of some 60 people.

More than 270 recorded police transmissions released yesterday also show that the scope of the event came slowly into focus in the hours after the fire. And even then, nobody would grasp the enormity that the fire on Cowesett Avenue would take 100 lives.

The police tapes released yesterday include conversations between West Warwick police and emergency personnel, calls by off-duty officers reporting to duty and inquiries from reporters. The transmissions were recorded between 11 p.m. and 3 a.m. on Feb. 20 and 21.

The tapes do not include 911 emergency calls from patrons at The Station.

Kent County Superior Court Judge Mark A. Pfeiffer on Wednesday ordered the records released under a consent order in a Providence Journal public-records suit. Atty. Gen. Patrick C. Lynch provided the digital recordings yesterday on compact disk.

The recordings represent only a portion of an ongoing Journal court action over Station records. Records still being sought include police and fire incident reports, fire dispatch records, information that specifies where each body was recovered, a list of survivors prepared by Governor Carcieri's office and 91 police transmissions withheld by the attorney general.

Lynch's office has been investigating the nightclub disaster for months to determine if criminal charges should be filed. The fire started when the rock band Great White opened a concert with a blast of pyrotechnics, igniting flammable packing foam installed in the club as soundproofing.

Lynch said last night that he hopes the criminal investigation will be done by the end of the year. He said the public release of yesterday's material would neither impede the investigation nor constitute an unwarranted invasion of privacy. He cannot say the same for the records that have been withheld, he said.

"The paramount concern for me is the integrity of the investigation," Lynch said.

Journal lawyer Joseph V. Cavanagh Jr. said yesterday that he will file a motion within a week to have the remaining records declared open, so a judge can review the attorney general's reasons for keeping the records secret.

West Warwick Police Chief Peter T. Brousseau has listened to all the recordings. "I think those tapes are a testament to the heroic and professional response that the men and women of the Police Department made that night," he said.

"There's no question in my mind that a number of people were saved because of the quick response of the Police Department . . . There was some excitement on the radio, but after the initial response, everything kind of went in a calm, cool manner."

THE CALL for reinforcements the night of the fire goes to the department's third shift, which would normally have reported for duty at midnight. They are called in early.

Capt. Gregory L. Johnson directs officers at the fire scene. "I want all officers to call in," he orders. "Everybody -- tell 'em to call."

Journal files / Kris Craig BUMPER TO BUMPER: Both sides of Cowesett Avenue in West Warwick are jammed with ladder trucks, police cruisers and rescue vehicles the night of the tragedy on Feb 21, 2003.

Off-duty officers roll out of bed to head to the scene, or to the Cowesett Inn, which has become a triage area.

"I'll throw on my pants and I'll be on my way in 10 minutes," one officer promises.

Johnson barks into his radio: "There are a lot of walking wounded. Just kinda corral 'em and get 'em to the Cowesett, where we're triaging."

At the fire scene, chaos reigns. The fire is blazing, injured people are everywhere; an electrical transformer explodes from the heat; wires are down on Kulas Road. The officers worry that the gas tanks on cars in the parking lot might explode.

"OK, the rescues are coming in," Johnson says. "Let's get everybody else back, these cars are going to start to go. Let's get everybody back across Cowesett [Avenue]."

Police Lt. John Magiera, working at the fire scene, takes a moment to update Capt. J. Stephen Boulton back at headquarters.

"Hi cap," Magiera begins.

"How you making out up there?" Boulton asks.

"Yeah, it's kind of crazy, I figured on no one's been touching base with you."

"No."

"They got, um, so far, so far they got one count of at least 25. There's still a whole bunch of people being treated, and out and about."

"Twenty-five dead people?"

"So far, yeah."

"What, they get burned up?

"I guess."

"What kind of fire was it?"

"They don't know, but apparently Channel 12 had a news camera right in there, and I guess they were doing explosions or whatever with the band. This is preliminary right now. And supposedly that's what sparked it off. But they got footage of that starting and everything -- we got the tape of that. But [Patrolman] Tony Bettencourt got through to his wife. All our guys are OK. It seems like all the firemen are OK . . . "

"The building is on the ground?"

"It is."

"Collapsed right in?"

"Yup . . . "

"Where are the dead people?"

"We don't know yet."

CAPTAIN BOULTON, a department veteran, keeps a level voice as he attends to the telephone.

The town's human services and emergency management directors are called in, along with nurses and grief counselors, ambulance services, the state fire marshal and the building inspector.

The medical examiner's office reports to the scene, after checking with the police to be sure the report of a "mass casualty incident" is not a prank call.

Capt. Catherine T. Ochs calls headquarters. On the phone, she asks how serious the fire is.

"The building's fully engulfed right now," dispatcher Arenas tells her.

"I'm trying to figure out if I need to prepare to be called or not."

"You might."

"Yeah?"

"I mean, we're calling everybody in. If you want to come in, you can."

She does.

In those early hours, there is a rush to find out who was in charge at The Station. Detectives call for crime-scene cameras, and bring the department's crime-scene van.

"Bring a stack of witness statements," one officer reminds a colleague.

By now, most of the department's top brass is there: Chief Brousseau and Maj. Paul A. Villa, the head of prosecution. The department's forensics van becomes a command center.

Not long after Ochs reports for duty, she calls Arenas again, and asks him to track down Kevin J. Beese Sr., the club's manager. "See if you can get a hold of him, find out who the owner is. Have him in here if they're not already here, to come down here."

"OK."

Soon, a police officer finds one of the Derderian brothers, an owner of the club. "I have that Jeff Derderian," he reports. "I'm bringing him in to the Cowesett Inn."

About that time, a prosecutor for the attorney general's office is following the news on TV.

Journal files / Glenn Osmundson THE NIGHT OF THE FIRE: Patrons' cars and emergency vehicles surround the burning Station nightclub in West Warwick. Fire and rescue personnel from across Rhode Island responded to the blaze.

Asst. Atty. Gen. Mike Stone calls Boulton. "I've been watching the news," Stone says. "Obviously it looks like there might be some criminality here.

"So we're gonna plug somebody in early. [Asst. Atty. Gen.] Randy White and myself are gonna be on our way up. Do you have a CP [command post] set up someplace?"

Boulton offers to shuttle him to the scene from police headquarters.

"Fatalities?" Stone asks.

"Multiple fatalities, and they're inside. The building's collapsed on folks and so forth."

"Looks like we're gonna have a serious situation."

Boulton concurs. "Something's going on here."

AS 3 A.M. approaches, Major Villa reports that there is no need for more police officers.

"We're all set for personnel at this time," he tells Boulton. "Thank everybody for the help, but we're getting too many people in here, we don't have enough room for them all. There's cops coming down from Johnston, from all over the friggin' place. Tell 'em we're all set."

Information requests from the media begin in earnest. Dispatchers field calls from reporters in Atlanta, Los Angeles, the United Kingdom. A reporter from Oakland wants a dispatcher to go live on the radio. The Today Show is trying to get through.

"Sorry to disturb you," one reporter says to dispatcher Benjamin Daudelin early Friday morning. "I am calling on behalf of a Portuguese radio station in Portugal."

"Yes."

"We heard about the incident with the fire in the nightclub. Do you have numbers . . . "

Information on fatalities should be available in a few hours, Daudelin says.

"Then it would be possible to know if there are some Portuguese descendants?"

"It's possible," Daudelin says. "It's possible. Anything's possible."

"OK, thanks."

He answers another call.

"West Warwick police, Daudelin."

"Daudelin?"

"Yes."

"It's Scott," says a friendly voice.

"Hey Scotty, what's up?" Daudelin says.

"Hey, I keep getting messages on my phone that the old Station burned down. What's the deal with that?"

"[Expletive] mess. Burned to the ground, like, a [expletive] ton of people dead."

"How many?"

"They don't know yet," Daudelin says, "but they're talking about 25 as of right now."

"No."

"Yeah."

"Holy Christ."

"Yeah."

"What happened?"

"They think it was the pyro. They had some big concert going."

"What the [expletive]? Nobody get out?"

"No idea. Just a mess. The whole thing's gone. It's on the news right now . . . Scotty, I got to let you go. I got like 10 lines ringing here."

Scott understands. "All right, buddy."

DIGITAL EXTRA: Listen to a selection of audio clips from the dispatch recordings on the night of The Station fire:

http://projo.com/extra/2003/stationfire/audio/