Yesterday, I wrote Minor Distractions. Not labled “Part I” as I didn’t anticipate a “Part II.”
Sometimes, reality is stranger than fiction. Consider this, . . .
Today was the day I was leaving the beach to head home to meet with some folks regarding the sale (finally) of our home. I loaded my car early and made breakfast for family and guests. After being an extra-nice husband and cleaning up the breakfast dishes, there were hugs, kisses and “Drive safe, Dad”
I left with my coffee cup and I was on my way, a half hour sooner than I had planned, building in some time for any traffic issues.
I was already conquering the almost three hour drive home.
At 0931, I stepped into the elevator on our 4th floor and pressed the button for the parking garage and away I went, for about ten seconds. Then all went black and I ceased to feel that sensation of going down.
I hate when that happens.
After almost a minute of nothing, I called my wife and she told me that the power had gone out. I asked her to call the front desk and to let them know I was alone, OK, but in the elevator.
I then remembered the flashlight on the iPhone and turned it on, allowing me to become a bit oriented. There was a “emergency button” in the car control panel, but it went to the elevator manufacturing plant, who knows where. They were going to dispatch a service tech to help me. (I suppose there is a battery for that intercom)
In the meantime, a text from Jelly (nickname for our daughter Elissa) updated me that most of the Island was without power and the front desk had called the fire department to “rescue” me.
I was just sitting on the floor of the elevator, drinking my coffee and checking e-mails (it was getting a little warm) when my phone rang. It was the Hilton Head Fire Marshall, returning my call from yesterday about how I was concerned that the resort might not be following some basic safety rules and thus, putting their guests at risk. We both got a chuckle about my current situation.
I could hear the “Jake Brake” on the fire engine as it pulled up and Jelly was texting me that she was taking pictures for the blog. She knows me well.
I was stuck between the 2-3 floors and was able to verbally communicate with my heros that I was a retired firefighter and OK. After a few minutes, they were able to release the car so it went to ground level and I was able to make my escape. I didn’t get much chance to thank the guys as they were making their way to another building and another stuck elevator, this one with a family, including a baby.
My wife and daughters, pleased that I was safe, hugged, kissed and admonished me to drive safely. Then I was on my way, 33 minutes after I stepped in the elevator. Fifty six years old and it was the first time I was ever stuck in an elevator.
For the record, I was due to meet someone at the house at 1300. I arived at 1258 and still beat them by 10 minutes.
Thanks to Kyle and the rest of the guys from Engine 8, who were the second due Engine into the area while Engine 1 was tied up somewhere.
So ends my summer vacation.