We were called for HR113, heavy rescue, to assist due to “precarious positioning.”  We had NO idea what the hell that meant, but trying to get additional details out of the captain was frustrating, so we just rode over, Code One, no big deal, right?

Imagine our surprise when we found the elevator tech on TOP of an elevator (with one guy still trapped inside) that had parted BOTH its cable systems! It was holding on by two very stressed clamps on the safety rails.

It got worse - we had to get the (stupid but well-meaning) tech out of there first, as he was obstructing the top hatch, and we would NOT go in through the side door (imagine a victim - or worse, a FF - halfway in and halfway out of the elevator just as it falls - can you say “guillotine?” I know I can say, “Oh, Shit.”)

So we get the tech off the top of the ‘vator, I’m walking him down the stairs to the ground floor, and I hear, over the radio, that George is JUST harnessing up to go in and grab the trapped guy, when SCREEEEEEECHBANG!!! off goes the elevator. The last clamp has failed - you NEVER hear about it, and the tech swears it’s supposed to be impossible, and none of US can ever recall a TOTAL elevator failure…

Anyways, all you hear from the inside of the elevator is “OHHHHHHHHHH SHIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAATTTTTTT!!!!!” Needless to say, we’re all cringing, but it’s only four floors down, and the tech and I go SPRINTING down the stairs (not sure what we thought we were going to accomplish!) So there is, of course, this TERRIFIC rattling, thumping screeching tearing noise that ends with a helluva BANG, then one smaller *bang*, and I’m envisioning a very dead pancake of a victim…eww…at least we’ll have a good story to tell…

The tech and I arrive at the subbasement, (after I wiped out and fell halfways down one flight, thankfully well-padded by my backside) where the doors have buckled some, but we can rip them open far enough to look in. There’s this F-ing guy (you’ll HAVE to excuse the French, but you’ll see why in a moment) sitting in the corner, dazed as all get out - BUT ALIVE. Nasty head laceration, and his arm is CLEARLY (ew) dislocated - BUT ALIVE.

Before I can say a friggin’ word, the rest of the team piles into the hallway behind me, we rip the doors open. Randy and I jump down into the (surprisingly intact) elevator cab, worried about debris, triage the victim, and start hauling him out of the hole.

There’s no room for a backboard, so we assist him up the five feet or so to ground level, and, as this lucky SOB is going out the hole, he looks up at the assembled firefighters, clenches his other fist skywards, and says, “I HAVE….ARRIVED…!!!”

Oh, my Lord, you could have knocked us over with a feather. Half of us were just looking in disbelief, the other half were on the FLOOR…

By the time we got him backboarded and on a stretcher, he’d autographed my helmet, found out the cute blondie paramedic was single, reassured the elevator tech that he wasn’t going to sue him PERSONALLY, and wangled an invitation to BBQ night at the house next week.

I mean, you HAD to be there, but…this friggin’ guy walks out (WALKS OUT) of the elevator THAT JUST FREE-FELL FOUR STORIES and he says, “I have arrived!”

We asked him what happened, and he said that he grabbed the light fixture above the door when the elevator started to lean to the left (he said “I thought to myself, ‘that can’t be good”) and that’s why his arm dislocated (and why he was alive, I’d say!)

Fudge, was THAT funny -and miraculous. I just about couldn’t scramble out the hole. You’d think ONE guy would have a camera. Nope. If we get a picture of the cleanup, I’ll post it.

There ya go. Funniest thing to happen to us in while…