Winter Park
Stadium collapse
Across the river, almost hidden among the myriad stadium sounds, the buzz of talk, the music and the occasional roar of anticipation, there was a “Crack!” Not an explosion so much as a very loud noise quite recognizably not part of this baseball afternoon. “Crack.”
Mel looked around as the buzz in the stadium changed. He could see that those in the upper rows to his right were looking back beyond the stadium. Then, almost immediately, he heard police sirens in the distance. The tale spread quickly because those in the right field grandstand could see across the river. There had been an explosion and the Monterey Bay Fish restaurant, one of those expensive restaurants on the heights across the river, had exploded into flames. It looked like a firework celebration. Police cars and ambulances were chasing along the river and sirens were screaming every which way. It was crazy.
The stadium was almost silent as everyone tried to make sense of what was happening.
It’s probably a gas boiler explosion in the restaurant. They never maintain those things, so they deserve everything they get, Mel thought.
Then, as these words were filtering through his brain, another sound broke. This time a deeper throated “boom” so close that it took place within his head. He was thrown into the air over the chairs below him and his head struck the concrete of the exit ramp wall. He was just one of a host of people who remembered nothing more.
A fan across the stadium in the left hand grandstand remembered afterwards seeing the tiers of seats across the field rising and rippling like a wave from left to right before crashing downwards amidst terrifying screams. Then just as the shock wave hit him and he was forced back into his seat he saw the upper club tier of the grandstand opposite slowly topple forward, throwing bodies on to the field, as it crashed down on the devastation below,
Beneath the stands Rashid, who had gone a little closer at the last moment to ensure that his wireless phone was within range of the triggers, was unlucky. A stray piece of concrete seem to fly directly like an avenging angel. It hit Rashid on the side of the head and he knew nothing more. No heaven, no band of virgins, no martyr’s dais … nothing.
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Across the river, almost hidden among the myriad stadium sounds, the buzz of talk, the music and the occasional roar of anticipation, there was a “Crack!” Not an explosion so much as a very loud noise quite recognizably not part of this baseball afternoon. “Crack.”
Mel looked around as the buzz in the stadium changed. He could see that those in the upper rows to his right were looking back beyond the stadium. Then, almost immediately, he heard police sirens in the distance. The tale spread quickly because those in the right field grandstand could see across the river. There had been an explosion and the Monterey Bay Fish restaurant, one of those expensive restaurants on the heights across the river, had exploded into flames. It looked like a firework celebration. Police cars and ambulances were chasing along the river and sirens were screaming every which way. It was crazy.
The stadium was almost silent as everyone tried to make sense of what was happening.
It’s probably a gas boiler explosion in the restaurant. They never maintain those things, so they deserve everything they get, Mel thought.
Then, as these words were filtering through his brain, another sound broke. This time a deeper throated “boom” so close that it took place within his head. He was thrown into the air over the chairs below him and his head struck the concrete of the exit ramp wall. He was just one of a host of people who remembered nothing more.
A fan across the stadium in the left hand grandstand remembered afterwards seeing the tiers of seats across the field rising and rippling like a wave from left to right before crashing downwards amidst terrifying screams. Then just as the shock wave hit him and he was forced back into his seat he saw the upper club tier of the grandstand opposite slowly topple forward, throwing bodies on to the field, as it crashed down on the devastation below,
Beneath the stands Rashid, who had gone a little closer at the last moment to ensure that his wireless phone was within range of the triggers, was unlucky. A stray piece of concrete seem to fly directly like an avenging angel. It hit Rashid on the side of the head and he knew nothing more. No heaven, no band of virgins, no martyr’s dais … nothing.
Back to Books