The elevator story

By now, almost everyone knows that the girls and I got stuck in an elevator for two hours during the biggest power outage ever to hit San Diego.

I told the story on the radio. It was on TV. On Twitter. Everywhere. But it's all been bits and pieces.

So here it is, what really happened.

Ella and I walked over to pick up Marina from kindergarten, happy to be there right on time. Marina was telling us all about her day, how the class got 100 stars and they'd be getting lemon popsicles the next day. That they were supposed to wear yellow on Friday and maybe, maybe her teacher would be able to find yellow popsicles to match.

Usually, when we get home, Ella and I take the elevator while Marina opts for the stairs. It's only two flights, but I'm always loaded up with backpacks, lunchboxes, work folders, mail, sweaters, etc. so I throw everything in the elevator and ride up.

On Thursday, we stopped to chat with someone from Marina's class (who is also named Marina!) and for some reason, my Marina decided to get in the elevator with us. She had actually climbed three steps, stopped, told us to wait and ran inside.

On the way up, the elevator started going slow. We live in an old building and the elevator has been broken two or three times since we've moved in. So when, all of a sudden, the elevator stopped and the lights flickered out, I assumed it was another glitch. It was dark in there. Really dark. The elevator has double doors, one on the inside and one on the outside. It was also hot, one of the hottest days of the year. Thank God I had my iPad in my purse because I immediately pulled it out and used it as a flashlight.

Marina was so, so scared. She was yelling things like "This is the worst." "Help!" "I want to be with my Doggie and Lambie." And Ella was stone quiet. After a few minutes of reassuring them, I pressed the emergency call button on the elevator but it was busy. Damned old building, I thought. Then I called Matt and, through terrible reception, told him I was stuck in an elevator and could he please call our neighbor who has the number for the elevator company. All that time, Marina kept screaming "get us out!!!" so loud that I could barely hold a conversation. Ella put her hand over Marina's mouth and told her to be quiet and calm down.

I called 911, only to find that it was also busy. Even at this point, I still didn't realize there was a power outage all over Southern California. I just thought the recent city cutbacks were really putting a strain on the system. I remembered hearing about a local person who died while waiting for the fire department to respond because the nearest station to him was furloughed.

Those are the thoughts I was entertaining while trying to make it FUN! for the girls. Look! Let's play games on the iPad! Let's talk about what we did at school! I even told them about the time I got stuck in an elevator at SDSU and, see? Nothing happened. As I was telling stories, Marina was on my lap and Ella was laying down next to me, barely moving.

It was getting hotter. The air was thicker. I wanted to push Marina off me because the heat and jitters were creeping in, but I couldn't let them see me freak out.

So I turned to Twitter, still clueless. I asked for someone to please send me the number to the fire department because 911 wasn't answering. That's when someone told me there was a citywide power outage and it was likely we wouldn't get rescued for hours. This news actually made me feel better. A power outage in the city never lasts more than an hour or two, I figured. Even if no one could get to us, certainly the power would be back up shortly.

I finally got through to the fire department. They basically told me that there would be no help, not for many hours. I begged them. I have two small kids, I said. One of them keeps falling asleep. "If anything happens, call us back," they said. "But it took me 45 minutes just to get through the first time!"

Soon after, I heard Matt's voice. Ella heard her dad's voice and finally let the tears come out of her eyes. Then we heard more voices. I thought it was the elevator company. Three men had crowbars and managed to jam open the inside door, which immediately let in some light and air.

We calmed down. A fellow mother from our building pushed popsicles through the hole for the girls to eat. We looked at pictures of better days on the iPad.

After about an hour, they got the outside door to open just wide enough so that I could lift Marina and Ella out. I was then able to step up and slide out (and have a nasty bruise to show for it).

Turns out, it wasn't the elevator company. It was three neighbors from the apartment building next door who got us out. It's one thing to see neighborly behavior on TV, but it's so humbling to actually have strangers do something nice for you. Tomorrow, I am baking them cookies.

(And the fire department? They didn't show up until 8:30 p.m., five hours later.)

After it was over, I sat on the couch stunned. I'm still stunned. So many things ran through my head.

Like how I almost didn't take my iPad with me that day. Marina's been using it before school to play kindergarten word games. I thought about leaving it for her that morning, but then selfishly decided that I wanted to listen to my Marc Maron WTF podcast and stuffed it in my purse at the last minute. Without it, we would have been stuck in a pitch black box.

Also? Sometimes Ella rides that elevator by herself because she likes to be independent. Just the idea of my little one in the elevator by herself in that situation makes me sick, literally. My stomach gets all knotted up and I break out into a panic.

But we were lucky to all be together. We were lucky we were able to get through to Matt right away. We were lucky it was over after only two hours, especially when so many more people were probably stuck for longer. And, most of all, we were lucky to have such an amazing support system.