The Secret Service of Alan Kahn

By Steven Scher

BASED ON THE EXPERIENCES OF THE AUTHOR AND HIS FRIENDS, THIS IS THE SHORT STORY OF ALAN KAHN. ALAN KAHN JOINED THE SECRET SERVICE, BUT THEY DONT KNOW IT. ONE DAY IT ALL FALLS APART.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Feb 5, 2010
• ISBN: 9781450026413

Steven Scher

Author and photographer Steven Scher was born and raised in the Bronx. He has been photographing fires and firefighters for forty years. He served as a fire alarm dispatcher for the FDNY and was its deputy press secretary. A photographer for Mayors Ed Koch and David Dinkins and an honorary deputy chief, Scher has written numerous articles on the history of the fire department.

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Copyright © 2010 by Steven Scher.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2010900528

ISBN:   Hardcover      978-1-4500-2640-6

             Softcover         978-1-4500-2639-0

              eBook              978-1-4500-2641-3

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,

without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Rev. date: 12/03/2015

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CONTENTS

Foreword

Alan Kahn’s Unofficial Glossary Of Secret Service, Law Enforcement And Espionage Terms

The United States Secret Service

Secret Service Code Names, Current And Obsolete:

Surveillance Terms

FOREWORD

I first met the author at a homicide in the ’70’s. I figured a detective who looked like a rabbinical student would be a good source for information. He handed me off to some Captain. No problem, Steven Scher probably had places to go and chalk body outlines to see.

I next saw Steven Scher at the funeral for a politician. He was wearing a 3-piece suit, a two-way radio earpiece and some sort of fancy lapel pin. He was talking to members of the press, pointing out the players at the funeral. Cops and politicians hooked up together in New York, nothing unusual.

I then would see Scher at fires, train wrecks, building collapses, Presidential visits, all kinds of mishegass. The guy got around. I soon discovered there are many of these guys hanging out with and following the activities of law enforcement and firefighting. Sometimes these guys get a little confused and begin to think that they are part of what they are following.

Police and fire buffs are know-it-all obsessive types. They are a good source of information, usually of the more obscure kind. Buffs think that they are observing and commenting on City characters from a distance. The joke is on them. They are some of the biggest characters around.

Now, Steven Scher tells one of their stories.

Jimmy Breslin

*   *   *   *

Weaving was the most dangerous part. Although he had a state of the art siren, air horn, and strobe lights all operating the weaving in and out of New York City traffic made him sweat with nervous excitement. He was grateful that he had the Grand Concourse as his route to the fire. The old boulevard was wide enough to allow him to move in and out of traffic and to correct for the errors the other drivers would make when they heard a siren. And there were bound to be a few. His car, now a traveling light and sound show, still had to compete with the incessant sounds of ice cream trucks, car horns playing La Cucaracha and the occasional lunatic gypsy cab driver cutting across six lanes of traffic to pick up a fare. Although the other drivers drove badly they at least had originality.

Alan Kahn let the siren operate on automatic hi-lo for a moment so he could pick up the radio microphone while steering the speeding Crown Vic. His 128-channel two-way radio always returned to its home frequency automatically and it was on that channel that he announced that he was car 83, on the way to the fire, and would broadcast a preliminary report on his arrival.

Despite Kahn’s focus on getting to the fire alive and fast he smiled as he sped past the Lewis Morris apartment building on the Grand Concourse. He thought about when the building opened in the 1920’s it was nicknamed the Loose Morals because of all the mistresses of downtown businessmen that were kept there in gigantic apartments.

Three blocks from the fire he could see heavy black smoke pushing from the roof of a row of stores. This was a good sign for spectators, a bad sign for the firefighters. The blacker and dirtier the smoke the longer it would take to control the fire. Remembering not to park so close as to be blocked in by any additional emergency vehicles he made note of where he was. He was on Burnside Avenue in front of the bullet-proof Chinese take-out place.

Using one of his badges to enter the fire line set up by the local precinct police officer, Alan Kahn stood about 50 feet from the fire, put the portable version of his car two-way to his face and gave his report. Car 83 to Citywide, at the scene of the Bronx second alarm. I have a one brick, 100 by 100 row of stores. Medium fire and heavy smoke from the roof. Exposures 1 and 2 are streets, exposures 3 and 4 are both 6 story multiple dwellings. Fire is doubtful, all units responding continue in. He was acknowledged by a member of the news and buff radio network who then announced the time and station’s call sign.

Kahn then made his way to the command table in front of the fire amidst the tangle of large and small diameter hose lines, fire engines and fire trucks, gushing water, crushed Red Cross cups, empty film boxes, and other debris that only a Bronx street during a fire could offer up. Recognizing Kahn, the Assistant Chief in command of the fire greeted Kahn cordially despite the chaos. Kahn smiled both in acknowledgement and in the honor of being able to greet the highest-ranking officer in the middle of a battle that is a multiple-alarm fire. Kahn asked the Chief how the fight was progressing and the Chief replied that he felt that as soon as the second tower ladder could be put to work the Chief would have it. Kahn thanked him and then looked around for any other buffs he knew. Seeing none he stood there alone amongst the local spectators and took in the entire show.

Even after all the fires Kahn had seen, probably thousands, he still reveled in the chaos. The cacophony of breaking glass, falling walls, fire engines pumping, radio commands being given, PASS and burglar alarms going off all contributed to the circus. Kahn always liked a good circus. He relished the idea of looking for order in the disorder.

As the Chief had predicted the second tower ladder knocked down most of the heavy fire. Kahn got on his portable radio to announce that units coming to the fire from a distance could cancel their response in his opinion. Threading his way past hose, dirty water, cars parked askew, and domino-playing locals, Kahn made his way back to his car.

Traveling back down the Grand Concourse at what Kahn might call a reduced rate of speed Kahn’s penchant for observation now focused on the route back. The once-glorious Grand Boulevard and Concourse was now a ghetto. Ground floor apartments of Art Deco buildings had been illegally converted into bodegas and dry-cleaners. The widening of its traffic lanes and the removal of most of its trees made the Concourse look more like a race course in an amusement park than the Champs Elysees to which it had been compared in its glory days. Kahn had once observed that unlicensed gypsy taxicabs would cruise up a short distance on The Concourse looking for their fares of mostly poor minorities. The cabs would make a U-turn to cruise back down the other way. This U-turn over the years would extend farther and farther up The Concourse, marking the progression of minorities and poverty. Eventually the gypsy cabs were cruising the entire four mile length of The Grand Boulevard and Concourse.

Kahn now had to weave around the various items laying in the roadway: dead dogs and cats; pigeons, alive and dead; glass; fenders;