HEROES ON THE BRIDGE
These cops have saved hundreds of GWB jumpers — without harnesses
WITH MANHATTAN’S glistening skyline on one side and trees lining the Hudson River on the other, the George Washington Bridge is a pretty place to die.
Suicide attempts are all too common on the mile-long span, with nearly 100 people trying to jump from the bridge last year. It’s a grim reality for members of the Port Authority Police Department’s “Suicide Squad” — the men and women who patrol the bridge’s pedestrian walkways looking for jumpers.
“We don’t want to see anybody come to the bridge to harm themselves,” said Port Authority Police Officer Brian Ahern, a member of the squad. “It’s the last thing any officer on the bridge wants to see. We do everything in our power to prevent that.”
In his 12 years with the Port Authority, he’s saved more than 30 people attempting to leap from the bridge.
Sometimes he intervenes when they are still on the walkway and encourages them to get help.
When that doesn’t work, he grabs them just as they’re about to let go of the railing — and their lives.
“We’ve had some of our officers holding onto the individuals on the outer rail and their feet start to go because of the momentum and because the rail is approximately waist high,” said Ahern, a union trustee. “We have other officers anchoring that officer down, holding onto their legs and holding on their waist to make sure they don’t go over too.”
The cops, who operate in pairs, walk along the concrete upper-level pedestrian walkways lining both sides of the eight-lane bridge every hour, bracing themselves against biting winds, the earshattering din of passing vehicles — and the potential heartbreak of having a life literally slip through their fingers.
On Oct. 5, Port Authority Police Officer Laverne Watson was nearly pulled over the side of the bridge as she grabbed 17-year-old Daniel Lomtevas in a desperate attempt to stop him from jumping.
Watson was driving when she saw the teen climb to the other side of the railing. She stopped her car in the middle of the roadway, froggered across four lanes of traffic and jumped two barricades before grabbing hold of Lomtevas — but the despondent teen had other plans. “He struggled free and jumped off the bridge,” Port Authority Police Benevolent Association President Paul Nunziato recalled. “The last thing that cop saw was a young person take their own life, splashing in the water about 200plus feet below her.” “How do you go home and put your head on the pillow after that?” Nunziato asked. “Laverne’s a tough cop and I will take her in my foxhole any day, but I don’t care how tough you are, if a kid slips through your hands and hits the water — that’s a sh---y day.” The Port Authority declined a request by the Daily News to interview Officer Watson. Ahern, like many other Port Authority cops, doesn’t like the nickname “Suicide Squad,” although they admit they’ve heard it. Officially, he’s a member of the Port Authority Police Department’s Walkway Patrol — Suicide Prevention Team. With 70 rescues logged last year, the team has had more successes than losses.
A dozen people did successfully leap from the bridge in 2016 — a 33% decline from the 18 suicide deaths on the bridge in 2015, officials said.
Still, 12 people died on their watch — and the suicides continue.
On Feb. 11, Dr. Robert Ashton, a thoracic surgeon, jumped from the bridge, landing on the rocks below, officials said. Ashton was despondent over his divorce from ABC News Chief Women’s Health correspondent Dr. Jennifer Ashton, relatives said.
Ashton was one of two people who jumped from the bridge this year, officials said. At the same time, Port Authority cops have saved four people from killing themselves in 2017.
On Jan. 12, cops stopped a 56-yearold man dressed head-to-toe in camouflage from jumping, pulling him back from the other side of the rail.
“I’m going to jump in the river and end it all,” the man told police, according to sources.
On Feb. 8, the Suicide Squad stopped two people — including a transgender woman from the Middle East — from leaping from the bridge within 15 minutes.
Only a few of the squad members have crisis intervention training. Most rely on anti-terror training to spot suspicious activity.
Anything could trigger an interaction on the span: a distraught gaze, someone spotted pacing back and forth, or, more commonly, a visitor gingerly placing their property on the ground before stepping away from it.
“Suicide doesn’t have a face,” Ahern