Taking it down

The wind in the Truckee Meadows can be very deceptive. At ground level; all is calm. Climb up about 30 feet to the second or third floor of an open steel structure and you might find a gale blowing. And without any letup. We were soon accustomed to this phenomenon and modified our work methods to suit.

Apparently the operator of that large crane used on the Sahara hotel hadn’t been told of those winds; winds that swept down from the Sierra’s. He wasn’t a local; being brought in for just this one lift. And now it was time to bring the giant mast of the crane down and let the ironworkers put it all back on the trailers and then onto the train.

It was early and I was touring the job site, (The Money Tree) making sure that everyone was busy and had all of the materials they needed. I had started down in the basement where I had half a dozen men working. Completed, I was climbing the stairs up on the west side of the building and had almost reached ground level when there was a tremendous noise and the pedestrian barricade, just in front of me, exploded in dust and splinters of plywood. I crouched down and covered my head. I wasn’t sure of what had happened. When I looked up again, I could see a mass of thick cables swaying where the plywood barricade used to be.

I still didn’t know what had happened, but I knew I wanted out of the spot I was in, so I pushed past the broken wood and the cables and got out onto Sierra Street. It was an unbelievable sight. The crane had fallen. The cab and body of the crane was lying on its side, two broken outriggers spraying hydraulic fluid onto the road. The main mast, the boom and jib had fallen across the Ace Motel and I joined 2 or 3 others in racing into the courtyard of the motel to see if anyone was hurt. Motel guest were pouring out of their rooms; a few wearing only towels for modesty.

We quickly determined that no one was hurt in the rooms affected by the boom landing in them and so we continued over to Virginia Street, where the hardcore gamblers were oblivious to the fact that the crane had also fallen onto the Nevada Club. It turned out that the ‘headache ball’ had remained on the roof of the club, but the block, much heavier, had crashed through and into the second floor women’s restroom. Unoccupied!

The same good luck had occurred when the crane was dragged sideways by the falling mast. Ordinarily, there was a long line of cars next to the crane because of the lane closure. Since it was early, and the signal had just changed, there hadn’t been any cars in that lane. And it was the same with the pedestrian barricade at the Money Tree; it was simply too early for the crowds to be out and walking around downtown. Besides taking out the barricade, the cables had also sliced off a corner of one of my panels. Like a knife through butter. Scary!

We returned to the crane to see how the operator was and found out that he had ridden it down safely, but as soon as the noise and confusion was over… he had left the scene. Not to be found anywhere.

It didn’t take long to find out what had happened from the ‘oiler’ on the crane. When they started the crane up that morning, the oiler said he saw the flag on the boom whipping back and forth as the wind raced across the roof of the Sahara, about 270’ feet above the ground. The boom had been placed in a near vertical position overnight and the swing brakes were locked. Safe. But as soon as the operator released the swing brake, the boom swiveled in the wind and the operator tried to lower the boom quickly to get it out of the wind, but he couldn’t stop the swing and between the two actions, it was soon out of control and dragging the crane across the pavement as the 300+ feet of boom and jib settled across 3 buildings.

We were working double shifts and later that night, I watched as ironworkers took what was left of the crane apart with cutting torches; not wrenches. Trailer loads of very expensive, bent and twisted tubing went down the alley that night.