While escaping to Mayberry helps Stephanie, Ernesto -- Ernie to everyone who knows him -- keeps on thinking about getting back to the job.

He is a familiar face to AMI employees. The sprightly senior, who fled the horrors of Fidel Castro back in the 1960s, delivered the mail throughout our three-story headquarters.

"He works so hard," says Mireya Throop, an ENQUIRER researcher. "And when he found out I was Cuban, he said, 'I knew a body like that had to belong to a Cuban woman.' What a flirt -- and at age 73 to boot!"

In late September, Ernie came down with pneumonia, and doctors discovered traces of anthrax spores in his nose. Hospitalized in Miami, he kept telling relatives, "I just want to get back to the job."

The words brought smiles to his family because that was Ernie being Ernie.

"He's amazing," his stepson Raphael Miguel told The ENQUIRER. "Every day he runs two long blocks uphill to catch the train in Miami and then he walks two miles from the train station in Boca Raton to the office.

"He's been asking for Cuban coffee. That's how we know he's going to be O.K."

By October 4, when the world learned that AMI employee Bob Stevens had contracted deadly anthrax, Ernie was well on the road to recovery.

His mailroom co-worker Stephanie was screened with other AMI employees for exposure to anthrax -- and got the word on October 10 that spores had been found in her nasal passages.

She was on the job when the news was delivered by an FBI agent, a state cop, and two public health doctors.

But she didn't panic. She wasn't sick. She asked a lot of questions and got assurances the antibiotics she had been given by public health officials would keep her well. Then she responded like a true American. She didn't run -- she went back to work.

"I was just trying to come to grips," said Stephanie who suddenly found she was a media star as the networks beat a path to her door.

With justifiable pride, Ernie's stepson Luis Miguel notes: "Ernie, Stephanie and the others are proof to the world that you can beat terrorism. In some ways, that's more significant than the bombs being dropped on Afghanistan."

When Martha Warwick, who designs pages for The ENQUIRER, headed home from the AMI building on Friday, October 5, she looked forward to a fun weekend, but soon found herself trapped in a real-life horror movie.

"I was just glad to have two days to try and catch up on all the things that pile up when you work full-time and have three young children," said Martha. "There's soccer, homework, birthdays, sleepovers, Scouts and a million other things to do.

"On Sunday there was a blessing of the animals at our church and we were taking our dog. My kids were ecstatic. Animals in church. What a fun day we had!"

But the fun was swiftly forgotten after a 1:30 a.m. phone call.

"I was sound asleep," recalled Martha. "Needless to say, the ringing got my heart pounding. And when I was told not to report to work on what is normally our busiest workday, but to report to the health department for testing and to bring my children with me if they had been in the building since August 1 -- I was in shock.

"I frantically tried to remember when my children had been in the building. I knew they had only been there one time, but I was having a hard time thinking clearly. Then I remembered the exact day, August 13. I remembered because it was the last day of their summer vacation and I had taken the day off, and they wanted to see my office."

It was hours before Martha could calm herself to get a few winks of sleep -- and the next morning she got a rude awakening.

The health department had asked some 500 AMI employees to show up at their headquarters to get their nostrils swabbed -- a test for the presence of anthrax spores -- and to receive preventative antibiotics. But they were not prepared for the onslaught, recalls Martha, and coping with young children made matters worse.

"Even before we left the house, my 8-year-old was giving me the third degree: 'Why do we have to go there? Who are these people? Why can't I go to school? I'm going to miss social studies.' "

For hours, a huge crowd was outside the health department building.

After a couple of hours the Red Cross showed up. For ENQUIRER photo assistant Christine Visoke their arrival drove home the urgency of the situation.

"Seeing the Red Cross set up tents with food and drink for us standing out in the sun, it finally struck me -- this is a real disaster. It also touched me to know people cared."

A couple of miles away at AMI headquarters, investigators in protective "space suits" were poring over every inch of our workspaces.

Quarantined inside were the tools of our trade -- our computers, our reporter notes, our research facilities, our photo library with more than a million pictures.

As we waited to be tested, we also worried about getting out the paper. It was Monday -- the day we had to get the issue to the printer.

Said ENQUIRER Senior Editor Edward Sigall: "We were deeply worried about our own health and the health of family members who had visited out building. But we were also concerned about getting out the paper -- it was an obligation we owed to each other and to our readers."

In its long history, The ENQUIRER had never missed an issue and the staff was resolved not to let it happen now. Executives had worked through the night hammering out plans -- some of us would work at home, some at our business office and some at a production facility.

We would rely on modern electronics -- and an army of computer wizards -- to link us up.

As people finished their medical test, they reported to their assigned facility and got to work. Deadline pressure is usually intense, but this Monday it was multiplied many times over as we grappled with our worst fears.

With help from the Internet, we all got quick lessons in the symptoms of anthrax. Over the next few days, panic swept through several hearts when staff members or their children came down with cold symptoms.

"I got the sniffles -- which the medical literature says can be the first warning sign of anthrax," said ENQUIRER Senior Reporter Patricia Towle. "After calming myself, I called a doctor at the health department. I asked her, 'Do I have anything to worry about?' She said she'd call me back."

The expert checked Towle's swab test and called her back with a clean bill of health. "I breathed a sigh of relief -- between sneezes," she says.

Vanessa Anne Hroch, a payroll specialist, said, "I received so many phone calls from friends and family who had seen AMI on the news. My family was very worried but I reassured them and told them that I was fine."

Two days after the nasal swab tests, ENQUIRER employees were called back for blood tests. The tests reveal whether anyone else had developed antibodies to anthrax, indicating they may have been exposed to the bacteria. At press time, results on these tests had not yet all come in.

Ruth Bloom, a proofreader for The ENQUIRER, added, "There is only one bright spot in all this horror. After receiving many calls from family, friends and even an ex-husband, you are heartened by how many people really care and are concerned about your welfare."