Not
even dangling concrete slabs and the danger of another collapse
could keep the firefighters from finding and digging out Jimmy
Bigelow. At 29, he was the top apprentice who graduated in 2003
from a training program operated by ironworkers Local
350 in Atlantic City, N.J. Now he was buried in the pieces of
a casino-resort garage bay that shattered on the clear morning
of Oct. 30, 2003.
To find him, firefighters, police
and construction workers in the rescue team had to forget
about tons of cracked slab and uncured concrete balancing
over their heads. They had to keep their minds off the weak-ened
columns and wall looming over the debris. And they had to
hope that gravity had taken the rest of the morning off.
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| Desperate
Hours. Firefighters and workers during the early
phases of the search. (Photo by Scott Stetzer/The Press
of Atlantic City) |
Fears Ignored
Dozens of rescuers who pulled the wounded and dead out of
the debris at the Tropicana Casino and Resort in the first
two hours after the accident were aware of the danger of another
collapse, but chose to ignore it. Despite uncounted acts of
heroism, the operation was a bittersweet success. Four workerstwo
cement masons and two ironworkersdied, and 24 others
suffered injuries, including four who were hospitalized in
critical condition. Many are unlikely to work again because
of those injuries.
What happened in the first 22 hours
after the accident has never been told in detail. There is
much to learn about how a smooth-running rescue and recovery
operation accounts for the missing, taps resources in a crisis
and avoids wasteful turf battles when every minute counts.
As a mobilization of community
services, everything seemed to go right. The first phase saw
local firefighters, operating under a widely used command
structure, rush to free the injured and lightly trapped workers.
They called for every tool available and enlisted unharmed
construction workers to search and shore shaky parts of the
wreckage. Local firefighters eventually handed the lead role
to the states urban search and rescue task force, which
also used construction workers, engineers and others to perform
specialized tasks and provide information.
Atlantic City has only 40,000 permanent
residents so shared links of family and friends were common
among those involved on the project and in the rescue. Disputes
never flared and everyone pitched in. A local bank allowed
its office to be used as a command center; the Home Depot
in nearby Absecon, N.J., sent 4 x 4 wood posts that were used
for shoring; and Roma Steel in Camden donated wire that was
used for tiebacks and bracing. Many in-dividuals, such as
a crane operator who ferried people around the wreckage, worked
into the night. What follows are some of their stories.
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| Wounded
Structure. Slabs slowed the search until a displaced
beam (right) was tied back. Engineers and ironworkers
confer (bottom). |
The First Call
Levon S. Clayton is a battalion chief in the Atlantic City
Fire Dept. He was at department headquarters working on routine
paperwork when his radio crackled to life at 10:38 a.m. with
a call reporting a building collapse at the Tropicana Casino
and Resort, one of the citys largest resort-casinos,
which was undergoing a $245-million expansion. Although he
did not know it at the time, the top five floor slabs in a
bay of the hotels concrete garage, being built atop
an existing structure, had suddenly lost support at one end
and hinged downward like cards in a Rolodex file. About 50
workers were in and aroundthe garage section. Clayton called
for another ladder company and asked the citys director
of emergency services to respond. He then headed for the Tropicana.
When Clayton arrived, he saw a
large group of construction workers on Brighton Avenue outside
the garage looking up at the wreckage. "I grabbed one
guy and said, get all the trade foremen,"
Clayton says. The man said he was one. Clayton then told him
to "get all the workers up here and get a head count
so we know how many are missing." The foreman disappeared
and was not seen again.
A security guard informed Clayton
that there were many injured workers and roughly described
their locations. Clayton assigned various fire companies to
begin removing surface victims, the injured and those who
were "lightly trapped" and could be immediately
given first aid and "packaged" for transport to
a local hospital. He also put Capt. Scott Evans of Ladder
Co. 2 in charge of the search. Evans is a trained member of
a special state rescue task force whose services might be
needed later.
click
here to view story - New Jersey Rescue Team Engineer Worked
to Prevent Second Collapse
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| Rescue
professionals. Mooney (left) and Clayton (middle)
played key coordinating roles as Engine Co. 6 members
waded into the debris to find hurt workers. (Photos by
Richard Korman for ENR) |
The same call that came to Clayton
also reached Capt. Michael Mooney, a headquarters staff member
at another fire department facility in downtown Atlantic City.
He saw a dust cloud rising from the Tropicana a mile away.
When Mooney arrived, Deputy Fire Dept. Chief Lewis Jaynes
instructed him to run the departments command post at
the scene, which turned out to be the hood of Jaynes
Jeep. "We called for help right away," including
extra equipment and ambulances, says Mooney.
Mooney, who 30 years earlier briefly
worked for the projects principal subcontractor, Fabi
Construction Inc., Egg Harbor Township, took up the task of
counting the missing. He instructed a police sergeant on the
scene, his brother, to find the union shop stewards. Mooney
wanted the stewards to assemble their jobsite workers at the
intersection of Brighton and Atlantic avenues, a block away
from the collapse but with a clear view of the wreckage.
In the minutes following the collapse,
Will Pauls, business manager of ironworkers' Local 350 and
president of the South Jersey Building and Construction Trades
Council, received a phone call from the ironworkers
union steward on the job, who told him what had happened.
Pauls headed straight to the Tropicana and joined the gathering
workers. "The first thing youre thinking is that
your members could still be alive and every minute that is
going by is essential," says Pauls.
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| Rescue
Resource. Ironworkers (above, bottom left) pitched
in by bracing and shoring the structure and Will Pauls
(far right) waits with city official as search for missing
drags on. |
Some of the first firefighters
Clayton ordered into the building were from Ladder Co. 2.
Finding themselves blocked from the garages top level
by debris, they climbed makeshift ladders and pieces of debris
to search for trapped workers. Collapsed floors had deposited
about 15 workers on the roof of an adjoining breezeway building
and another 10 or so on the fifth level of the garage, at
the base of a wall.
The "tub," as some firefighters
called this space, was a nightmarish vision of bleeding and
stunned workers imprisoned by rebar and slathered with freshly
poured concrete. Looming over them were several wobbly concrete
columns and a section of stranded wall that remained eerily
upright above the wreckage. Firefighters were aware that these
structures could fall. If there was another collapse, "we
were dead," says Tucker Smith, a firefighter whose son
was a carpenter at work in the building.
On the roof of the adjoining breezeway
building, Evans asked some construction workers to move away
so firefighters could lower themselves to the victims. "Climbing
into the lower collapse area, we untangled the first worker
and handed him up to another worker," Evans wrote in
an account of his activities. "The next worker was pinned
in the standing position with broken legs and rebar wrapped
around his waist and foot."
As some firefighters held the worker
upright, others used a metal saw and pry bar to free his body
from the rebar. He then was placed in a stokes basket and
carried out through the jumble of debris to the roof of the
adjoining building, where many of the injured had either fallen
or fled to during the collapse. There, they briefly were...
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