The Time I Went Into the Men's Bathroom and The Building Caught Fire
I carry my keys and billfold with me all the time now
I had my coffee, and as I sat in my office shuffling papers, I soon felt the need to get rid of my coffee. I did not realize how my day would change in the next five minutes when heading to the restroom.
In the early 1990s, I had a job at a local university. The department I worked for had a suite of offices in an old musty basement. The underground, as it was referred to, was connected to a large administration building via a narrow hallway.
It was a nice area, but very old. It was a bomb and tornado shelter for the University President and staff in the early sixties and retrofitted as an office area in the seventies.
Previously, I had been with an Oil and Gas Company. Our offices were in a 30-story skyscraper, with all kinds of perks. Life was good, and I was a bit spoiled, having had an office on the sixteenth floor with a secretary assigned to me and one other person.
But at the time, the oil business was undergoing a lot of consolidation, and our company was acquired, leaving many of us scrambling to find jobs.
Tapping into my professional network, I quickly found a job at the university and began working after taking a few weeks off.
It took time to shift my mindset from being profit driven to being part of the administration of a non-profit state agency. But I quickly adjusted.
The working atmosphere was more relaxed. We had access to all of the students' facilities, such as the campus health club, the student center, and the collection of campus restaurants, along with fifty percent off tickets to all the NCAA football, baseball, and basketball games.
I was a Director with thirty people and a team of contractors working for me. Many of them were located in the underground compound where my office was. The rest were spread out amongst the campus.
I stepped out of the office suite to use the restroom one morning. It was located around the corner, about thirty feet down the hall. An activity that I did three to five times a day.
I was in the bathroom for about four minutes. I took care of nature's demands, washed my hands, fiddled with my shirt collar, and then walked back to my office.
Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until I opened the office suite door.
Five minutes prior, a bustling group of people doing their jobs dominated the area. But now, the office was empty and quiet.
I was in the Twilight Zone. My entire team had disappeared. Cell phones were still a new concept, and I couldn't just send a text to see where they were. I was at a total loss.
Looking around, it became evident that they all left in a hurry. Purses were still in desk areas, coats were hanging in the corner, and half cups of coffee were still hot—what a bizarre situation.
While trying to figure things out, I noticed a very light scent of smoke. Having been a fireman in the past, the smell woke up my internal radar. A few seconds later, I heard sirens, faint but still discernable in the distance.
And then it occurred to me that a part of the building we were connected to was on fire. And someone must have come down and told everyone to evacuate, except me.
Our fire alarms were zoned. The alarm and sprinklers would have activated if there was a fire in our immediate area. However, if there was a problem with the adjacent building, then alarms on our site were useless.
I immediately realized I needed to get out. Upon getting to ground level, I found my team safe in the evacuation zone. One of my managers just looked at me and said, "we thought you were on the other side of campus at a meeting."
Looking around, the fourth floor of the administration building had flames coming out of a window. That's not a good sign.
The fire department declared a two-alarm fire. Luckily no one was injured, but damage to a portion of the building's west side was extensive.
Unfortunately, we could not get into our offices for the rest of the day. We had remote facilities in four other buildings and dispersed the team accordingly. But the problem many of us faced was most of our items: keys, purses, jackets, and briefcases were all underground. Nobody could get in to retrieve them.
I spent the next few hours in discussions with the manager of the campus hotel, working to see if he would be willing to house part of my team if they couldn't get home in the evening. If he didn't have the space, the subsequent conversation was with the Director of Student Housing. Fortunately, we got the all-clear six hours later and could get back into the office space.
It was an exciting situation.
The university eventually condemned the underground and relocated the team to the other side of campus.
The fire in the administration building has mysteriously disappeared from the University news archives.
© LJ Bentch All Rights Reserved June 2022
