Workplace: Those who are often first to handle Capitol mail take precautions. But amid concerns, they say, there is no panic. 
The nation's anthrax scare came home in a personal way Monday to an already jittery Capitol Hill.
The office manager for Sen. Dianne Feinstein (D-Calif.) bought latex gloves and surgical masks, and Jeff Salassa, an intern who opens mail for a Michigan congressman, was so nervous that he went to a clinic to be tested for anthrax.
Meanwhile, Brian Kennedy, an aide to Rep. George Radanovich (R-Mariposa) called his mother in New Jersey to reassure her that there was no reason for him to go home.
"'We're not freaking out, but we are a little nervous of course," said an aide to a California lawmaker who asked not to be named.
Congressional staffers were directed to stop opening mail after an anthrax-contaminated letter turned up in the office of Sen. Tom Daschle (D-S.D.).
In the Hart Senate Office Building, where Daschle's office is located, word of the anthrax incident left senators and their staffs shaken.
Returning from lunch, Susan MacDonald, an aide to the Senate Commerce Committee, found herself stranded outside the building as District of Columbia firefighters sealed off the entrance on Constitution Avenue.
"It's scary, very scary," MacDonald said. "You hear these things, you read about them, and now it's in our workplace."
But after a few minutes, the firetrucks left and the building reopened. And aside from the quarantine of Daschle's suite on the fifth and sixth floors, the workday appeared to unfold more or less as usual.
The Senate floor was strangely calm as Daschle related the incident in a short speech. The handful of senators present listened attentively but without evident alarm.
Sen. Frank H. Murkowski (R-Alaska), in fact, stood up after the majority leader spoke to announce that he, too, had received a suspicious delivery in his office that day. His staff had called the Capitol police to report the incident and been told that 11 other similar calls had come in that day from both the House and Senate.
Having dispensed that news, Murkowski then launched into a speech in favor of drilling for oil in an Alaskan wildlife refuge. The senator's staff was later told the envelope and its contents were harmless.
Lawmakers made it clear that they were determined to go about their business.
Sen. Christopher S. "Kit" Bond (R-Mo.) issued a statement urging that everyone "keep your cool."
"The terrorists want to scare us," he said. "They can only win if we give in to the fear."
Outside Daschle's chamber, Sen. Bill Frist (R-Tenn.) told reporters: "Anxiety here is up; vigilance is high. No panic."
Feinstein shook her head in disbelief at the prospect of her staff's using gloves and masks to open the 22,000 pieces of mail received each week. "We never thought we'd be here," she said.
Anxieties were already running high under the Capitol dome, believed to have been the target of the hijacked plane that crashed in a Pennsylvania field on Sept. 11.
Down the hall from Daschle's office, Sarah Berk, an aide to Sen. Larry Craig (R-Idaho), said that she felt reassured by the "quick and thorough response" of authorities. But, she added, "One can't help but want to be tested."
"It's a little unnerving," Kennedy, the Radanovich aide, said. But, he added, "I sense no panic."
Sen. John Kerry (D-Mass.) called about 40 staff members into his office to urge them to remain calm. Monday's events "ought to be a reminder that coming to work here is now even more an act of defiance and patriotism," Kerry told staffers, said aide David Wade.
Since security briefings last week, many staffs were already changing their mail-handling protocol.
Like a lot of staffers, Berk was on the phone. She called her mother in South Carolina. "Every time we get evacuated, I call her," she said, adding that her parents were handling the latest news calmly.
Diane Benjamin, a Senate cafeteria cashier, said she saw a lot of nervous people. "But I do believe in the Lord, so I try to leave everything in his hands."
Even though mail was halted, UPS delivery man Steve Hilley was making the rounds in Hart on Monday afternoon. Hilley said some offices were accepting his packages and some weren't. But he wasn't fazed. "I'm not going to live my life in fear because of cowards," he said.
 
Times staff writer Marisa Schultz contributed to this report.