Damage assessment maps were then used by firefighters and police officers anxiously combing the pile and construction teams working to remove debris and stabilize the perimeter "slurry" wall. Firefighter Sam Melisi worked closely with the engineering team. "We'd constantly get calls from Sam, or he'd call Rich Garlock and say, 'Could you come over? You got a minute to take a look at this?'" says Rinaldi. The team could then determine whether it was safe for recovery workers.

"I was using all my experience — as an engineer, as a manager and as a human being — to bring that to bear on a situation that was unique," says Rinaldi. "You had to act fast. Everything was immediate. This was a 24-hour, seven-day a week operation. A week here was like four weeks on any other project."

Like many others, Rinaldi practically lived at the site in the initial months, working six to seven days a week, 12-15 hours a day. A Bronx native, Rinaldi now lives with his wife in a Westchester suburb north of the city. When the two-hour commute got to be too exhausting, he began sleeping some nights in a temporary apartment by the site.

"I'd wake up in the middle of the night thinking about things on the site, dreaming about it," says Rinaldi. "You just live with it, it just becomes part of you. You just can't seem to shut it off."

At times people would ask him how he could work at the site, given he had known so many people who died. "I found my own way of settling that with the people I knew I had lost," he says. "One evening in October, I took time to walk around the site, look at it and come to an inner peace in myself about what had happened and what I had to do."

Over the months, Rinaldi would occasionally get together with his colleagues from the Port Authority, or play the guitar with his friends in their rock 'n' roll band. "We call ourselves the Garage Band because we practice in the garage," he says. "We'd get together and jam. We played a WTC benefit dance, at the American Legion."

Amidst the demolition and deconstruction, there were a few constructive, uplifting moments, such as reconstituting "The Sphere," a 45,000-pound steel and bronze fountain sculpture that had stood in the World Trade Center's Tobin Plaza. German sculptor Fritz Koenig helped direct the engineers and ironworkers as they labored to ready the damaged, but structurally intact, sphere for a temporary memorial in Battery Park. Rinaldi was also very pleased that his team was able to salvage several intact PATH trains from the wreckage to be used as future museum relics.

On May 28th, the last steel beam was cut down in preparation for the Ground Zero closing ceremony May 30th. "I will never forget walking up the ramp and there were all of the uniform services giving us a standing salute," says Rinaldi. "That was nice. They were honoring us who had supported them. It was really emotional."

The loss of many close friends has made Rinaldi think hard about how short life can be. In a year and a half, he will be eligible to retire. An amateur wine maker, he had resurrected his equipment before September 11th to teach his sons. When he does leave the Authority, says Rinaldi, he may just "settle in and make some wine."

After, that is, he finishes his vacation on the Outer Banks this September.

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