If I have to move up in a building, I choose the elevator over the escalator. Because one time I was riding the escalator and I tripped. I fell down the stairs for an hour and a half.
Demetri Martin
January 2009
That January morning I stepped into the freight elevator, as I did every workday, to take the ride up to the top floor of the Sierra College Library.
I pushed the button and felt the familiar sensation of heaviness as the elevator started ascending. Suddenly and too soon it stopped. Odd. The doors didn’t open.
Realizing that something was amiss, my first thought was “I’m going to be late for work.” Having no cell phone, I quickly surveyed the assortment of buttons and alarms on the elevator’s control panel. There, I noticed the telephone icon on a small stainless steel door.
Inside there was a call button and a speaker.
When I pushed the button, someone immediately responded: “Campus Security”. “Hi there.” I responded, “I’m in the LRC and seem to be stuck in the elevator. I’m going to be late for work. Could you call the Tutor Center and let them know?”
In retrospect, it seems funny that I was more concerned about being late than about being trapped in the elevator. (I place a high value on not inconveniencing anyone.) Our conversation continued as one would expect, with troubleshooting instructions and then reassurance that help would eventually arrive.
I settled in for a long wait. Kicking myself for not having a book to read in my oversized purse, I carefully arranged the contents of my purse on the floor. (Just so you know, it’s not at all creepy that I had photos of students in my purse. There was a good reason for it. Really.) The most promising diversion was my small digital camera.
After documenting the interior of the elevator cabin, I considered what unique perspective my situation might offer.
After what seemed like a very long time, I heard voices: “Are you okay in there? We’ve called the elevator technician. He’s on his way.”
After one hour and twenty five minutes, the elevator started moving. I got my camera ready.
As the door opened, I was greeted with laughter and cheering. There at the door was the elevator technician. Behind him were two employees from the Facilities Division and my trusty colleague, Willie.
In the months and years that followed, on the rare occasion when I would see the elevator man’s friendly face in the building, I would experience a vague, yet startling feeling of fondness. Thinking about my response and how it might have something to do with the collective unconscious, I wondered what Carl Jung would have to say about it. Yeah, probably nothing. After all, sometimes an elevator is just an elevator.
Lucky for us you had your camera! Love your instinct to document!
Been there...done that! We were stuck halfway between 2 floors in a very small 2 person elevator in Germany. Luckily, we could open the door and climb up and out!