Newsday

It begins with early morning dog-walkers pausing as they pass the big, red wooden door on Sixth Avenue where photographs of Robert Beddia and Joseph Graffagnino are posted. Then comes a trickle of neighbors carrying paper-wrapped bouquets from nearby florists, to be deposited at two impromptu memorials that have steadily grown on the sidewalk.

"I just feel bad. They lost so many already, it's a shame," said Jennifer Bernucca, 25, who visited the firehouse on Monday with a friend, Yvette Bisono, 22, to lay flowers at the entrance.

The ritual is the same, if less intense, as it was on the day nearly six years ago when terrorists flew hijacked jetliners into the World Trade Center, killing more than 2,700 people. On that day, the station that is home to Ladder 5 and Engine 24 lost 11 of the 343 firefighters among the dead -- the most of any firehouse in the city.

On Monday, firefighters from around the city gathered in the entrance with family members, talking privately. The funerals for Beddia, 53, and Graffagnino, who would have turned 34 Monday, were scheduled for Thursday and Friday.

Beddia, a 24-year veteran, and Graffagnino, who joined the department eight years ago, died of smoke inhalation on Saturday while fighting a fire at the former Deutsche Bank building, which was being demolished because of damage from the falling towers on Sept. 11.

Graffagnino leaves a wife and two small children, said a neighbor, Mario Vigorito, who grew up next door to Graffagnino in Brooklyn's Dyker Heights section. "He was a very nice guy, from a close family," said Vigorito.

Graffagnino was at the trade center with Ladder 5 on Sept. 11, said another neighbor, Teddy Etimos. Beddia also responded to the twin towers with Engine 24, but "he wouldn't talk about it," said Francois Moulin, 63, who lives near the firehouse.

Moulin recalled that Beddia also worked part-time as a bartender at Chumley's, a popular Greenwich Village tavern, and drove an Alfa Romeo sports car. He said the handsome bachelor "loved life, he loved women and he loved his job," but never talked about the danger. "It wasn't his style to talk about it," added Moulin.

The latest losses bring to 16 the number of firefighters from the Sixth Avenue firehouse to die in the line of duty. A block away, three Callery pear trees and brass plaques stand as memorials to Capt. Robert Drennan and firefighters James Young and Christopher Siedenburg, killed in an apartment fire in 1994.

They share a tiny park named for the Rev. Richard Fagan, who himself perished in 1938 while saving two fellow priests from a fire at nearby St. Anthony of Padua church.

Among those leaving flowers Monday were Eric and Lanita Hazard, transplanted Texans who live in an apartment building behind the former Deutsche Bank building. They found themselves unable to get home after Saturday's fire.

"The two firefighters who lost their lives -- these are our firefighters," said Eric Hazard, 29, who works in public relations. "They came to our neighborhood, and we feel very connected."

Earlier visitors to the firehouse included four motorcyclists from Maryland, Virginia and Pennsylvania, who belong to America's 9/11 Foundation Inc., a group supporting police, firefighters and other first responders. Also visiting were members of Squad 18, a unit that lost seven members at the World Trade Center and five others in a floor collapse in October 1966.

Amid the sorrow, it was business as usual. In mid-afternoon, Engine 24, nicknamed Red Rover, rolled out into busy Sixth Avenue and turned west on Houston Street, siren wailing.

Associated Press writer Verena Dobnik contributed to this report.