Trapped

One day before heading into work I decided to take a quick jaunt downtown. Big mistake. Huge!

Here’s why…

I had a super quick audition. Basically, I just needed to turn in my headshot and resume and slate for the camera. I was in and out in minutes. I was feeling good. The audition was downtown on the 2nd floor of the Felt Building located on Main Street. I pressed the “down” button for the elevator, anxious to zip on over to work.

I stepped inside and the doors closed. I started digging for my phone to check the time and make a call to my hubby. After a bit of rummaging, I finally found my cell and took it out. It was then I noticed that I could still hear voices. Weird. I hadn’t moved. Even weirder.



I pressed the button for the first floor again, tried to open the doors, 3rd floor, 1st floor. Nothing.

I looked for a service button and debated if I should press it. I didn’t want to be a damsel in distress so I tried the buttons again with no luck and decided to press the call button. Nada. Zilch.
I called out through the doors, “hello?”
“Can you guys press the elevator button?”
“Can anyone hear me?”
”Hello?”
I was trapped inside an elevator.

I banged on the doors some more, pressed buttons, then dialed 9-1-1.
“9-1-1, what is your emergency?”
“I’m trapped inside an elevator.”
“One moment please, I’ll transfer you to the fire department.”
I told the dispatcher where I was, what happened, and all about my attempts to get the elevator moving.
He said to stay calm (Did I not sound calm on the phone?) and a unit is on their way. He adds, “if anything gets worse, call us back.”

Worse? That makes me a bit nervous. I hadn’t thought of it getting worse. I called Brent and say, “Don’t worry, the fire dept. is on their way, and I’m stuck in an elevator.” I keep him on the phone for the next 12 minutes or so. He kept me calm and I had a cake pop in my purse so that kept me occupied.

I eventually sat down and heard banging, “Ma’am, the fire dept. is here and we’re working to get you out. Are you OK?”
I respond and wait. I hear some laughing and talking, so I figure, if they’re not worried, I shouldn’t be.

About 5-6 minutes go by and I hear, “We’re having trouble with the door. We’ve called a service tech but we’re hoping to get it open before he shows up.”
And before I knew it, the doors opened! There was clapping and cheering. A firefighter held the door as I stepped out. I told them thank-you several times followed by, “where are the stairs?”

My elevator ordeal lasted 24 minutes and I was completely unharmed, all thanks to the Salt Lake City Fire Dept.