Denfield S. Otto, an off-duty transit officer sitting in the sixth car of the Brooklyn-bound train, was 45 minutes late for a transit police choir practice when he heard a popping sound like gunfire and looked toward the end of the car. Officer Otto, a 54-year-old grandfather from Harlem, heard a series of pops as people left the crowded train. Then the car went black except for flashes of orange and crimson flames.
What Officer Otto did next earned him a call from President Clinton and made him a hero to a city unsettled by a bombing that has no explanation yet, but raises plenty of fears and frightening memories.
The train was stopped in the Fulton Street station, so Officer Otto -- who was 15 feet from the man who the police say was holding the incendiary device -- dashed off the car and headed for a token booth, snatched a fire extinguisher and then raced back toward the rolling ball of fire.
"I got two people in flames, laying on the floor of the train," he recalled later. "Some brave passengers took off their coats and tried to beat back the flames." He and another passenger -- a man he can barely remember -- then extinguished the fire engulfing the two people lying on the floor.
"I don't consider myself a hero," Officer Otto said. "The real heroes were the people with the coats who neglected their own safety."
Indeed, while many subway riders fled, there were plenty of heroes yesterday: the riders who suffocated the fire and the token booth clerk who instantly understood what was happening and hit the emergency button, rapidly summoning the police.
Yet, hours later, it was Officer Otto who sat in transit headquarters in Brooklyn, and was handed a telephone by a transit police spokesman, Al O'Leary, with only the comment, "We'll hold until the President gets on."
The room, which included Chief Michael O'Connor, the top officer in the transit police, was silent as Officer Otto replied "Yes, sir" and "Thank you."
He had a huge grin on his face.
"I only did my job, Mr. President," he said. "Thank you very much, sir. Merry Christmas to you, and God bless you."
At a City Hall press conference earlier that day, Officer Otto, a 25-year veteran of the transit force, stood with a huge grin when he was commended by Mayor Rudolph W. Giuliani.
"He was very, very instrumental in assisting the people who were injured and people who were burned and in fact were on fire," the Mayor said of Officer Otto, who worked for the Post Office before coming a transit officer.
"Without him, it might have been a much more serious situation," Mr. Giuliani said. "He is to be commended for his immediate and brave response." Emergency workers said the explosion injured 41 people, including four critically.
Officer Otto, wearing an old green army jacket, stepped forward to the microphone and appeared poised to say something but was patted on the back by the Mayor and moved into the background.
"He's one of the stand-up officers in the department," said Sgt. Luis Medina, a spokesman for the transit police. He said that Officer Otto began working for the department on June 30, 1969 and was assigned to District Three, at 145th and St. Nicholas in Harlem.
"This is just another example of how transit cops are always at the right place at the right time," Sgt. Medina said of Officer Otto. "Investigators are currently talking to him to determine what he can contribute to this investigation."
A reporter who asked Officer Otto if he thought of himself as a hero, received a shake of the head.
"No, I don't," Officer Otto said. "I only did my job." Transit officials refused to let him talk more about the incident until he is debriefed.
"Right now, I feel normal except for the press," he said, as he stood in the glare of television lights and scores of cameras.
He insisted that even the call from Mr. Clinton did not unsettle him.
"I was very relaxed," he said. "He sounded very nice and sincere and congratulated me. I never thought I'd even speak to the Mayor."
Officer Otto, a native of Antigua who has lived in New York City for 37 years, was on vacation this week. He said that when he called his wife from the Mayor's office she couldn't believe where he was or what he was doing there.
A friend of Officer Otto's described him as a quiet, shy man. He sings baritone, and one of his favorite songs is "O Holy Night." He is a member of the choir of St. Philip's Episcopal Church on West 134th Street near Frederick Douglass Boulevard, and was scheduled to practice last night.
The Rev. Nathan Wright, senior priest at the church, called Officer Otto "an enormously responsible and disciplined spirit. He is a very thoughtful and intensely conscientious artist."
Officer Otto and his wife, Ivy, have three adult children and five grandchildren, ranging in age from 2 to 7.
"I do believe that the almighty God looks over me," Officer Otto said. "Whatever will be will be and God protects his own."
Officer Otto told Transit Chief O'Connor that what struck him most about the subway explosion was the spirit of cooperation among New Yorkers.
"Black and white, it made no difference," he said. "One guy burning was a black guy, and white and black were beating out the flames. In crisis, people do get together. They all become human beings."
