BY THE NEXT morning, scores of reporters, photographers, satellite trucks, and anxious relatives and acquaintances were camped across from the charred remains of the Station on Cowesett Avenue. The 300-person capacity club, which dated back to the ’40s in various incarnations as a nightspot and restaurant, was reduced to rubble — a grim indication of the dawning heartbreak. The continuing investigation, which includes a grand-jury proceeding, had already started.

Karen Lee Ziner, a veteran Providence Journal reporter, was approaching the end of her four-to-midnight shift the previous night when she heard something on the police scanner about a raging fire and a request to send every available rescue unit. Racing to West Warwick a short time later, she encountered the resulting chaos as rescue workers triaged the injured, and dazed people stared at the inferno engulfing the Station. " I said to someone, ‘This is like hell,’ " Ziner recalls. Jack Russell and a sound tech for the club were already debating whether the band had permission to use the pyrotechnics blamed for the fire.

As a reporter covering the scene, Ziner experienced mixed emotions. She felt terrible, she says, " because I was watching a lot of people and thinking they look like they’re not going to make it, and it felt really invasive. I just felt like I was in the way, but that goes with the territory. You know, the press is in the way [as a witness at terrible events], but we’re not in the way — that’s our job. It was a very traumatic night. "

Although reporters, like cops and firefighters, often adopt a necessary degree of detachment in responding to situations involving the loss of life, the magnitude of the West Warwick calamity made it impossible to maintain a typical degree of distance. " Just from a human level, it’s depressing, " says Jim Taricani, an investigative reporter for Providence’s WJAR-TV (Channel 10) and an occasional contributor to the Providence Phoenix. " I don’t see how it could not be depressing. In some ways, we’ve developed a hard edge, but when you come across a situation like this, with a massive loss of life and how it happened — people going out to have a good time and they end up dying in such large numbers, " you can’t help being affected. Still, such an effect, Taricani hastened to add, is nothing compared to the suffering of those in the fire and their family members.

Peer counseling was made available to many of the police officers and firefighters who responded to the scene. " As much as they’re doing their jobs, they’re human also, and they feel for everyone else — the victims and the families, " says Major John J. Leyden Jr. of the Rhode Island State Police. Although troopers must be prepared for dealing with anything, " I don’t think anyone ever envisioned being involved in this type of incident. "

The timing of the fire at about 11 p.m. Thursday coincided with a shift change at Rhode Island Hospital, the state’s only trauma center, a fortunate coincidence that provided a greater number of nurses and other staffers to deal with the initial response. Now, in the aftermath, many fire survivors face a painstaking path to recovery because of the seriousness of their burn injuries. " This is really hard not to get emotional about, " says a doctor, who requested anonymity. " You walk in and you want to overdo things [to help the patients]. "

" It has been extremely difficult, " the doctor adds. " The rest of the hospital is very strangely quiet, somber. Everybody knows somebody [who was affected by the fire]. It’s on everybody’s mind. " In a world where people typically complain about petty concerns, " I think it makes you put things in perspective. "

THE WEST WARWICK fire happened as we face the prospect of war. For some, the terrible and unexpected disaster only heightened a sense of things coming undone in an increasingly scary world.

At the same time, the outpouring of sympathy and assistance for the victims and their families spoke to our best instincts, an ability to be compassionate and generous in responding to grief and sorrow. Relief funds have been established and various groups — ranging from local musicians to the Rhode Island Supreme Court — have offered their assistance. " I think in some ways the West Warwick event is really unifying the state, the same [effect] that September 11 had on the nation, " says WHJJ-AM Providence talk-show host Arlene Violet.

Amos Sanfilippo of Plymouth, Massachusetts, a guitarist in the Van Halen tribute band Diver Down, played the Station numerous times in the last six years, most recently at the end of January. Diver Down’s drummer, Jay Gates, was among those who escaped from the fire without serious injuries. Sanfilippo says he is working with other tribute bands to plan a warm-weather outdoor benefit for the fire victims.

Some musicians were surprised by the reception they received when performing on the night after the fire. Phil Maigret, who plays guitar in Jeri and the Jeepsters (he’s also the production manager at the Providence Phoenix), says he and his wife, Jeri Verdi, debated whether to play a scheduled gig last Friday at Cady’s in West Glocester. They had seen the television coverage the previous night and weren’t able to sleep until 4 a.m. But they resolved to play the gig, Maigret says, and found a solid audience of about 100 that seemed to welcome the music at the small club. " Everybody was talking about it, what had happened, " he says. " At the same time, everybody wanted to forget about it. "

The full fallout of the terrible fire at the Station will take weeks, months, and even years to come out. As that process continues, Rhode Islanders will likely live with a similar duality — being gripped by the tragedy while also trying to move beyond it.

Ian Donnis is the news editor of the Providence Phoenix. He can be reached at idonnis[a]phx.com