Battle News Ignites Flurry of Emotions : Reaction: Developments in the Persian Gulf have transfixed everyone from rabbis to Arab-Americans, from protesters to homeless.

News of war washed across Orange County on Thursday like a river at flood tide, then crested in a wave of fury and despair when word spread that Israel was under attack.

Barely 24 hours after the opening shots of Operation Desert Storm, raw emotion burst forth again.

“Just like Hitler killed millions of Jews, Hussein is trying to do the same,” said Rabbi David Eliezrie, vice president of the Rabbinical Council of Orange County, his voice rising in anger. As Eliezrie spoke, news reports blared from a television beside him, each moment bringing more specifics about the assault on Tel Aviv.

Throughout the day, developments in the desert crisis sparked conflicts and confusion here at home.

Demonstrators tried to block the Federal Building in Santa Ana, and a dozen were arrested in the process. Travelers braved delays at John Wayne Airport, where security measures put 1,200 parking spaces off limits. South County youngsters, some with mothers and fathers stationed in the Persian Gulf, buckled under the strain, one moment weeping in fear and the next raging at anti-war protesters and President Bush.

Where Wednesday’s news brought anxiety mixed with hope--that the building conflict might be snuffed under an overwhelming American-led air attack--Thursday’s reports were bleaker.

“A lot of us have relatives and friends in Israel,” Eliezrie said. He stopped to listen to a television announcer, who was reporting that two to three missiles had hit an area of Tel Aviv that holds a hospital. “What neighborhood is this?” Eliezrie asked, staring at the television. “The Wilson hospital? Oh my God.”

Then he broke for moment to take a call. Returning, he said: “That was my 4-year-old boy. He says, ‘Come home, Papa.’ You know why? Because he feels threatened. This is the reality that we live with.”

Shock was not confined to Jewish leaders.

“I am feeling sad and disgusted about this whole development,” said Dr. Muzammil Siddiqi, president of the Islamic Society of Orange County. “Peace could have done more than war can do. Innocent people are going to die.” Through the day’s tumultuous and tragic turns, what county residents shared in common was a craving for news: Work in many offices stalled as employees were transfixed by developments, some straining for word on family and friends stationed in the region, others simply gripped by a drama that few could bear to turn away from.

At county government offices, loudspeakers usually tuned to public meetings or background music were switched over to Cable News Network, and officials stuck close to their desks to keep current.

In Santa Ana’s Walnut Park, meanwhile, a cluster of four homeless men munched chips as they sat around a battery-operated television; the four have been pooling their money since yesterday to buy replacement batteries and keep the news coming.

“It’s all we’ve been doing, watching TV,” said one, a 24-year-old man in a USC sweat shirt who declined to give his name.

In the Via Lido, a tony, brick-lined Newport Beach shopping mall, well-dressed shoppers and shopkeepers were just as galvanized. Television drowned out piped-in music in some stores, and one couple sat on a bench flanking a transistor radio.

“I’m not a peacenik, not at all,” said Jerry Merriam, a World War II veteran who is visiting family in Orange County. “But when you raise kids, you’re protective of them, and I don’t want my country to fight any longer than it has to.”

Regis J. O’Connor, the bartender at the Newport Beach Elks Lodge, wholeheartedly agreed.

“I think people got excited about this right off the bat, like it was over and we’d annihilated them or something,” O’Connor said, putting one hand flat against the bar and scooping up ice with the other. “That’s not going to happen. In a day or two, they’ll start crawling out of their holes, and this will go on.”

On a warm, cloud-dappled Orange County afternoon, signs of war were palpable--though sometimes hard to spot. Flag sales were up, and at least a few newsstands reported a booming business. Traffic was unusually light in many places, and theater attendance plummeted as audiences stayed home to watch the war.

Even comedians steered clear of conflict in their routines, comedy club operators said.

But what the war drew out of theaters, clubs and shopping malls, it thrust into the streets and college campuses. Rallies and protests took on new intensity and featured the first Orange County civil disobedience arrests since the military buildup in the gulf began six months ago.

Twelve demonstrators were arrested in Santa Ana after they blocked the entrance to the Federal Building and then moved to obstruct cars parking in a nearby lot. The remaining protesters left after the arrests, but the building was evacuated just after noon when officials received a bomb threat. No bomb was found.

Even as that bomb search was under way, hundreds of demonstrators gathered at UC Irvine, where some slipped into body bags as part of a “die in.”

As passions and uneasiness grew, some local Arab-Americans became fearful that they could become victims of violence. Already, a few complained of backlash against their businesses.

Hassan Hassan said vandals “demolished a large potted plant” outside his Newport Beach restaurant, Hassan’s, and tossed dirt from the pot on the building’s doorstep.

Makram Nawar, a Newport Beach developer originally from Egypt, said his office had received a bomb threat.

“I don’t understand because Egypt was one of those allied with the U.S. during the entire gulf crisis,” Nawar said. “Obviously, the public looks at Arabs as one single group, which is not the case.”

While some reeled in anger at the day’s events and others shook with foreboding, the somber and careful business of preparing for terrorist attacks at home continued as well.

Southern California Edison stepped up security at its San Onofre nuclear generating station south of San Clemente. Metropolitan Water District officials bolstered patrols at their facilities--including one in Brea--and sent planes into the air to keep an eye on an aqueduct that draws water from the Colorado River. John Wayne Airport closed parking areas near the terminal and posted signs warning travelers against leaving luggage unattended near the curb.

Nowhere were the preparations more diligent--or the emotions more on edge--than at the county’s military bases.

Security tightened markedly. Servicemen carried M-16s or shotguns on their shoulders, supplementing their standard-issue pistols. Sandbags and oil barrels filled with water lined entrances, and bomb-sniffing German shepherds were added to patrols, base officials said.

Anxious wives called base hot lines over and over to find out about their husbands, and reported for thrice-daily counseling sessions.

So far, the battle details have been encouraging. Local units have played a role in the fighting, but there have been no reports of casualties involving them.

Marine Corps KC-130 Hercules aircraft stationed at El Toro Marine Corps Air Station flew missions Thursday morning, refueling warplanes that were bombing strategic targets in the initial attack of Iraq and occupied Kuwait.

“It shook me up to have that verification,” said Malanie Alvarado of Tustin, whose husband, Master Sgt. Billy Alvarado, is part of the El Toro-based Marine Aerial Refueling and Transport Squadron, VMGR--352.

She was informed by telephone Thursday by the wife of an officer in the squadron that “everyone arrived back safely.”

Her sighs of relief were echoed by other anxious relatives. But Thursday night, they continued to hang on every word, tune in to every broadcast, brace for any new twist.

“As long as the ground troops aren’t brought in,” said Rebecca Porter, 21, of Mission Viejo, whose husband is in Saudi Arabia. “We just don’t know what’s going to happen.”