Julia Staniszewski says she hadn't seen some of her neighbors in this wooded suburb for at least a year. But when Avianca Flight 52 crashed thunderously into a nearby hillside, they came running. ``The radio went off and everything went dark but there was absolute silence,'' the 85-year-old longtime resident said Sunday, recalling, as did others, the eerie absence of engine noise before the crash. ``I stayed in bed until neighbors came looking for me 15 minutes later to check that I was OK.'' The Boeing 707 clipped the tall oaks near Mrs. Staniszewski's house before breaking into pieces and coming to rest in a mess of twisted steel, killing 73 people aboard the craft and injuring 86. Three days later, residents of this affluent community of about 340 people 35 miles east of New York City say the enormity of the tragedy is just beginning to hit home. ``We were on automatic pilot until last night,'' said Richard Hassanein, whose home sits two houses from the wreckage. ``We couldn't think about ourselves.'' Hassanein's wife, Adrienne, said she still feels numbed. Mrs. Hassanein was one of the first to reach the scene after the red-and-orange jet crashed. ``It sounded and felt like an earthquake,'' she said. ``The scene was terrible. It was almost surreal. You don't forget something like that.'' The plane tore part of the rear deck off a house, but damaged no other homes on Long Island's North Shore. Even so, the community will never fully recover from the emotional impact, Mrs. Hassanein said. On Sunday, residents dressed in running gear, many with dogs in tow, looked on in disbelief as investigators dug for clues. Most suitcases and other personal effects were hauled away Saturday, but the odd shoe or piece of clothing remained amid broken seats, inflated life vests, oxygen masks and bits of fuselage. Police guarding the wreckage looked around in dismay, occasionally picking up an item of clothing or passport, then silently letting it fall. ``I don't want to be here,'' one officer said. ``No one does.'' The quiet search recalled the strange silence that preceded Thursday's crash. All four engines stopped before the plane went down, indicating it may have run out of fuel. ``I was paying bills, watching television and listening to the wind, when I heard a thud. I thought lightning had struck,'' said Marjorie Isaksen, whose home sits above the crash site. Mrs. Isaksen said she heard about the tragedy about 15 minutes later when a friend phoned to check on her. ``My reaction was utter disbelief,'' she said. ``I didn't really realize what had happened until I knelt beside an injured man lying on a stretcher and lay my coat over him,'' Mrs. Isaksen said. ``His face was swollen and bloody. I cried when I was alone with him.'' Mrs. Isaksen said, however, that the tragedy still hasn't ``set into my brain.''
