Luke Sergeant of New Jersey holds back tears as he tells of saying goodbye to his exchange-student friend at JFK airport before the flight. (Newsday / Al Raia)

PARIS-- The elderly lady in the charcoal gray suit gazed up at the airport monitor in Charles de Gaulle Airport, wondering why the screen announced that TWA Flight 800 that should be landing had been canceled.

She was puzzled but not scared until an official quickly came over and led her to a trauma center set up for those meeting the New York flight that went down into the waters off Long Island.

The arrivals gate at Terminal One is usually a scene of happiness, where every day thousands of people walk through the automatic frosted glass doors with expectant faces that are met by the smiles of waiting friends and relatives. Yesterday, it was turned into the site of horror for about 30 people who came to meet the passengers of Flight 800. None of the 230 passengers and crew pushed trollies through the doors. None felt the excitement of reaching a new country. None felt the comfort of arriving home. Relatives had no one to meet.

"Help us," called out a teenaged girl in jeans and a black T-shirt after throwing herself for comfort into the arms of a woman who appeared to be her mother. Others cried as they entered the futuristic concrete building, having heard the news on breakfast radio shows as they drove to the airport.

Still more moved in stunned silence as police fixed red adhesive labels to their lapels and handbags as identification tags and led them to an enclosed lounge where a team of about 100 counsellors and medical experts stood by to provide care.

Gilbert Dennemont, a TWA spokesman, said that most of the people who turned up at the airport at around 8 a.m. yesterday were French and that a few were American. "Every family member has been assigned a trauma team specialist," he said.

As the day wore on the distraught family members came and went from the trauma center, their faces blotchy from crying. Michel Clerel, chief physician for the Paris Air ports, said that some relatives had held out hope during the early part of the day that their loved ones might still be alive.

"We have to put them in a mental state of waiting ... before eventually confirming to them the loss of a loved one," he said. "We get them to talk and discuss their feelings with specialists then we leave them alone for 10 or 15 minutes and we speak to them again."

At the airport one man was living a nightmare of doubt. "It's a brother of ours," said Jean-Claude Bindikou. "He was supposed to be on a two o'clock flight from New York but we're told he might have been on the eight o'clock flight."

As relatives wrestled with their grief French government officials visited the trauma center, which was closely guarded by police.

French President Jacques Chirac, on a visit to Africa, sent President Bill Clinton a message of sympathy saying he was "deeply shocked and dismayed."

And French Prime Minister Alain Juppe said he was saddened by a tragedy that "is even more horrible as it occurs a few days before the opening of the Olympic Games. But at this moment we cannot yet say if it was an attack."

But the focus in Paris yesterday was on those affected by the tragedy.

By the evening all of the 30 friends and family members had left the airport, which returned to its normal business. Children laughed as they chased each other around the check-in lines. The circular building with its trademark crisscross automatic walkways was bustling with people from all over the world as they crossed paths on their way to their destinations.

One American man stood talking to a friend on a payphone. The man had been traveling for more than 24 hours and had not heard the news.

"I'm shocked," said J. Schroeder, 28, a law student from Portland, Ore., on his way to an old college friend's wedding in Paris. "I just heard from friends."

Especially upsetting to Schroeder, a graduate of the University of Pennsylvania, was the thought that nearly 20 students from the area were killed in the crash. "That gets a little close to home," he said.

Schroeder may have had a near-miss himself. A storm in Chicago, where he was making a connection from Portland caused some airlines to exchange seats on flights. He missed a plane to Paris by 20 minutes, ending up in Frankfurt. He wondered if that saved his life.

"There are only so many flights to Paris," he said. "I suppose I should ring the folks."

Special correspondents Eric Nagourney and Julian Nundy contributed to this story.