New Mexico's 'terror town' hosts attack training center
PLAYAS, N.M. -- With its pristine Spanish-style houses and flowering gardens, this remote town seems an unlikely place to be the most dangerous spot in the United States. But for the past six months, it has been under siege by terrorists.
First, a man took some hostages and holed up inside 1 Mesquite St., threatening to blow up the place. A SWAT team had to take him out. Then came the discovery of a pipe-bomb factory in a neighbor's kitchen, and an explosion on a bus in which eight were killed or wounded.
The attacks are simulations, part of a national training program for emergency personnel such as police, paramedics, and border patrol officers. For the roughly 20 families who live in this government-contracted town and the several dozen others who live on the outskirts, though, the events often seem too real.
''It feels like I'm in war," said Trent Johnson, 17, who was born and raised here. Helicopters fly overhead in the middle of the night. Sometimes while he's going to school or running errands, he and his parents must make their way past a maze of ambulances, fire engines, and Humvees. ''It's kind of freaky to see people in uniform walking down your street with M-4s."
Mercifully, evidence of the attacks doesn't last long. After each crisis, a cleanup crew arrives, sweeping up shattered glass, replacing smashed doors, patching cracked walls.
Next come a few quiet days, sometimes a few quiet weeks. Then the attacks begin all over again.
Life has been this way since December, when the first trainees began arriving from across the country. Nicknamed ''terror town" by locals, Playas is part of a multibillion-dollar initiative by the federal government to prepare for what some think is inevitable: another attack on US soil.
''You'll never fight the scenario you train against but the fact that you've been exposed to similar conditions in a synthetic environment -- one where there's no penalty or harm for making a mistake -- is the best opportunity you're going to have to learn," said Corey Grube of the Office for Domestic Preparedness, part of the Department of Homeland of Security.
Gruber said each simulation is followed by assessments of what went right or wrong. The results, he said, have been helpful in pinpointing weaknesses in the response system, such as the need for more communication among agencies.
Built by the
But when the factory closed in 1999, all but a handful of Playas's inhabitants left.
Last fall, the New Mexico Institute of Mining and Technology used a $5 million grant from the Department of Homeland Security to purchase the 640-acre township. It's now part of a network of academic institutions that specialize in training emergency workers to respond to various threats.
New Mexico Tech's specialty is explosives. Letter bombs, pipe bombs, car bombs, and the improvised explosive devices placed on roadways are among the easiest of weapons for terrorist to create.
Benjamin Davis, a 23-year-old furniture store worker and volunteer firefighter, is paid $10 a hour for role-playing, such as portraying a bus passenger seated next to a bomber. ''It makes you realize how awful the world can be," Davis said.
When New Mexico Tech moved in, it closed the town to newcomers. Existing families were relocated to the eastern side of town. They pay roughly $375 a month in rent, depending on their home's size, condition, and location.
Bill Cavaliere, 47, is one of those who decided to stay. He said is proud of his town's role in helping stop terrorism. When soldiers came to train recently, ''we said 'God bless you' and waved American flags."
But David and Kathy Johnson, Trent's parents, have mixed feelings about their decision to remain. They did it mostly because they didn't want to uproot their son during his senior year of high school.
They say that their new landlords have tried hard to minimize disruptions -- for instance, building a special half-mile road for David, 50, so his commute to his job at a cattle ranch on the other side of town wouldn't take him through training areas.
But Kathy, 47, a bookkeeper who has lived in Playas for 17 years, said that lately she's been feeling like she's living in an occupied town.
One afternoon on her way back from work, she was stopped by a soldier standing next to a tank who asked to see her driver's license. Then New Mexico Tech barricaded half of the town, making her family pledge not to enter without an escort. Last month, it instituted a new policy requiring visitors to check in at the police station before entering town.
''I don't know how long we will keep living here because of this," Kathy said. 