The news broke last night: Four jihadist-wannabes were arrested while attempting to blow up a carbomb in front of a synagogue in the Riverdale section of the Bronx.

Disturbing enough. More disturbing from my personal perspective: All four of these jokers resided in, and laid their terrorist plans, in the town I grew up in:

The men, all of whom live in Newburgh, about 60 miles north of New York City, had met in prison. [James] Cromitie, 44, who authorities described as the plot’s leader, had lived in Brooklyn and had as many as 27 arrests for minor crimes both in upstate New York and in New York City, [NYC police commissioner Raymond] Kelly said. Mr. Cromitie, David Williams, and Onta Williams were native-born Americans, while [Laguerre] Payen was born in Haiti and is a Haitian citizen.

The four men arrested are all Muslim, a law enforcement official said. Mr. Cromitie, whose parents had lived in Afghanistan before his birth, had told the informant that he was upset about the war in Afghanistan and that that he wanted to do “something to America.” Mr. Cromitie stated “the best target” — the World Trade Center — “was hit already,” according to the complaint.

And further on the Newburgh angle was their intent to shoot down military planes at Stewart Airport Air National Guard Base.

I’m compelled to make note of this because of my connection with the town. That said, it’s not like I feel any more affected by this brush with “homegrown” terror than anyone else. Yes, the proximity is slightly jarring: The conspirators lived not all that far away from my childhood house, and likewise Stewart isn’t that far away from that location either (in fact, planes flying into Stewart are a common sight and sound overhead in my old neighborhood). And I’ve mentioned before how socio-economically distressed Newburgh has been for decades now, so it’s not a big shock that something like this could be germinating in the area.

Still, I don’t take away from this that Newburgh is a unique case. Desperate times abound for all sorts of people in all corners of the country, and a similar scenario could (and probably will) play out in any one of a thousand small burghs. This time out, it just happened to be one with which I’m all too familiar.