Trapped for 41 hrs: What Would you Do?

Basically, about 9 years ago, this guy (Nicholas White) left his office at about 11pm on a Friday night to take a quick smoke break and unfortunately got trapped in the elevator. No one came to his calls and then everyone left for the weekend. It wasn't until 41 hrs later, he was rescued. Now, 9 years later (and after a lawsuit he won), the elevator surveillance video has been released.

It's a time lapsed video of the 41 hours he was trapped, condensed to less than 2 minutes. "Edited to a soundtrack of classical piano music, the video shows him pacing, trying to climb the walls, lying down, curled up in a fetal position, prying apart the doors." - video website

"After a certain period of time I knew that I was in pretty big trouble because it was the weekend..." "I relieved myself down the shaft when the doors were open." - White

Click on this link to watch the video: New Yorker trapped in elevator for over 40 hours.
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I saw this while reviewing the news this morning and it sparked my interest... What would I have done if trapped in an elevator for 41 hours on my way back to my office?

First things first: What would I have on me coming back to my office?

I don't smoke, but let's make it across the board as close as possible to his situation. He went down to burn a quick one, not bringing anything additional back with him. So, perhaps he had a lighter - if you're thinking what I am thinking, we'd set the alarm off. However, we can't tell from the video that he had a lighter - and in some big places like that where there is a common smoking area/main street, it's not uncommon for people to just carry a cigarette or two down and light off someone else...(keep from getting bumbed off of all the time). So, for the sake of being conservative, let's say no lighter or any other cigarettes on you and, you didn't take your cell phone or purse to just burn a quick one - you're in a hurry so you can finish up your job and get home for the weekend...

So, you basically have on you what you have in your pockets or on your belt (minus a phone), etc while you are at work... And no one comes looking for you. And you can't figure/maneuver your way out - you're stuck for 41 hours.

Me: I have a couple of sticks of gum in my pocket and I have an ID card clipped to my belt. What am I going to do for 41 hours?

Initially, I would probably try to recall all the MacGyver episodes I ever watched as a kid in the 80's. "Did he ever escape out of an elevator with gum and a shoestring?" Then I'd crack a joke to myself like, "What would Brian Boitano do?" (for all you SouthPark fans) to relieve the sudden stress - and making fun of myself for thinking what MacGyver would do. "What about that Survivor board game I have? Man, why haven't I ever opened that?" And after several hours of trying to logically figure my way out of there to no avail, I think I would consider the fact that no one will find me until about 7 or 8 am on Monday morning - and I can live that long without food/drink, assuming the A/C or heat was still on since it's a large NY office building.

So then, after I threw a little tantrum kicking the door, for the next 30-something hours I think I would try to sleep as much as possible - that's how I normally try to pass time when I am really anxious about boring stuff like really long car rides/flights. (If you sleep until you get to your destination, then you're magically there in no time!) Then I would obsessively check the door to see if the elevator moved while I was asleep - every time I woke up.

Other than that, I'd probably pray and sing a bit, think about what I might want to do in the future - career and travel wise, count ceiling tiles/holes, do some stationary exercises (b/c I cannot be confined that long), vow to take the stairs, stretch, continuously monitor my watch - count down to Monday morning, plan a blog about it, try to sleep some more...think of a really good one-liner for why I will not be at work Monday morning, when I'm already there.

What about you guys? What do you think you would have done?

Top 10 Reasons We Don't Let Mammy Cook Anymore...

There are many reasons and stories behind why Mammy isn't allowed to cook at family functions anymore. I'll condense it for you to the top ten reasons and perhaps a few pictures to make it all make sense.

Reason # 10: Everyone starved to death or ate on the way there - and then had to collectively play pretend. It got too risky when everyone did it and nothing got eaten.

Reason #09: We got tired of having the rotating "bring your dog" schedule and the sickness that ensued on the way home.

Reason #08: My father still ate it anyway - and then we had to make 15 stops on the way home and cordon off one bathroom at home for 3 days...

Reason #07: "School of Hard Knocks." After the first food poisoning, you learn.

Reason #06: If you are going to can stuff yourself, you should probably label it and perhaps seal it...

Reason #05: What is the annual pink/green/white gelatin with carrots anyway?

Reason #04: Expiration dates aren't there to remind you for what occassion you bought it, nor are they just good ideas...

Reason #03: Buying the dented cans on sale is not always a bargain...even if it was during the Great Depression.

Reason #02: Leaving things to sit in the oven for 3 days does not constitute refrigeration nor does leaving things to cool down on top of the stove overnight...

Reason #01: Because the old family saying says it all: "If you loved the turkey at Thanksgiving, you're really going to love it at Christmas." You can't keep refreezing it and recooking it - over and over and over...

Here are some garage pantry pictures for good measure:

(Note the BBQ on the top shelf from a previous post - 1987 baby!)

(And the marshmallow creme - top and bottom shelf. Anyone up for coffee?)

(Exploding cans - Here's a science lesson for you kids...Can anyone say "Botulism?")

bot·u·lism / Pronunciation[boch-uh-liz-uhm] –noun
a sometimes fatal disease of the nervous system acquired from spoiled foods in which botulin is present, esp. improperly canned or marinated foods.

So one may ask, "What do you guys do now that Mammy doesn't cook and how did you institute that?" Well, glad you asked. It was "painful" but as Mammy aged (and so did the grandkids) we convinced Mammy that everyone would like to participate in cooking and help her out, but didn't have time to come over all day and do it at her house - (that was her solution). Mammy conceded after many concerted efforts of cooking everything before we got there anyway, thinking we'd just stop bringing stuff....

So now my father, the only male left in the family older than my cousins/siblings, is responsible for bringing the meat (usually a turkey or brisket, etc). Everyone else brings side dishes, etc - pretty much whatever they want - we have a lot of great cooks in the family - thank goodness! Mammy still makes lots of side dishes - to include the annual gelatin...

And we've formulated and orchestrated this plan that no one in particular started; it just kinda happened and morphed into this brilliant system that naturally works like clockwork:

Everyone puts their stuff on the dining room table - it's like a buffet and we all go eat in the addition/kitchen. We place all of Mammy's items in a line down the center of the table, "the place of honor" - then everyone else puts their stuff around the outside of the table. All guests/boyfriends/girlfriends, etc are briefed on the table arrangement prior to the prayer - and everyone makes sure any new member/guest got the brief/understands (ask Kris).

We let Mammy go first - she makes her plate and leaves. Then someone, usually my father "Uncle Andra," (Mammy didn't know how to spell "Andre," so she guessed...) makes a big plate of "Mammy food" (sometimes 2) and dissappears to trash it/feed the dog - looks like everyone ate some! (insert magical music here). Everyone else then makes their plate, making a circle around the outside of the table - avoiding the middle line of food. It's a fine-tuned machine and Mammy has yet to figure this out... It's entertaining to say the least -

Life...Happens

I've always been fascinated with the human body (any living thing for that matter) from the study of biology to the study of physiology. It was the only subject I liked in school and I even took Anatomy and Physiology in high school as an elective credit instead of the "fun" courses. I remember my first Life Science course in 7th grade and reading ahead in my textbook on chapters that really interested me, though I didn't even read most of the assigned material in my other classes.

In fact, it was a dead cat that convinced me there was a God, and in turn I completely gave my life to God while hovering over this dead feline. How strange that the cat didn't even know its purpose in life (and death) was to act as a tool to save mine, in a sense? No one would have thought. Anyone in their right mind would say, "That cat's purpose was to teach students about anatomy."

I had grown up in church for the most part and felt God calling me at a very young age, about 2nd grade if I remember correctly. It was very clear to me, though I think many doubted it at my age - it was, and still is, very real to me. I remember it well. But over the course of time, I decided to live my own life under a "cheap grace" concept and eventually came to very much doubt a God I once knew to be calling me... Plagued by doubt through Jr. High and High School, I spent a lot of time researching - and stumbled across a lot of interesting things. I know, what Jr High/HS kid spends their time researching religion? Well, me. I've always been a seeker of truth and research minded. (I walked to the city library after school to wait for city league soccer practice to start across the street at 6pm) It was a passion within me - which I hid from most. Why? Because I didn't want to be swayed by bias evangelists who felt something, but had no proof they had the "right" answers - and got paid for it. I also really struggled with the fact that I didn't agree with a lot of teachings, compared to what I was studying in the Bible they claimed to be "infallible."

The summer after my freshman year of HS, I again felt God calling me...strongly, and by 16 was rededicating my life, but was still plagued by doubt regularly, and was tortured mentally over it. "Had I fallen for my own psychological games? Maybe I psyched myself into this?" "It's still too early to decide - There is still so much I have not read/visited!" "But what if it is real and I deny it?..." But it was this dead cat, my senior year of high school, just before graduation, that convinced me more than any (live) human could about God.

The cat didn't say or do anything (obviously). It just laid there like any dead cat would, but as I continued to study the inner workings of this cat, I found myself in tears, completely marveled. "This is not an accident...The probability is too small...There must be a creator...This is too intelligent for happenstance..." And after pouring through all my thoughts in this hour and half class, I was convinced beyond anyone's reasoning, there was intelligent design; there was a God.

Even through college, taking numerous Biology and A&P courses, nothing has reminded me of this moment so much as the "Our Body" exhibit I saw a couple of months ago (If you haven't been - it's a must see. I know, I'm a big nerd for going to stuff like this "for fun.") But I was in awe of our Creator... there are no words to express except that it brought tears to my eyes, again. A reminder of how much God loved me; that he knew it would take a dead cat to convince my ever-doubting mind, and he made it happen just for me.

Today I was reading up on the discovery and furthering of DNA - regardless of who you believe truly discovered DNA (there is a big controversy over who should be credited), I think the words of Prof. F. Crick (1950's) are thought-provoking and that perhaps he was a "Doubting Thomas" like me, who required a dead animal (microscopic slides) to convince him of a "creator."


Professor Francis Crick, awarded the Nobel Prize for the discovery of DNA, wrote:

"An honest man, armed with all the knowledge available to us now, could only state that in some sense, the origin of life appears at the moment to be almost a miracle, so many are the conditions which would have had to have been satisfied to get it going. The trouble is that there are about two thousand enzymes, and the chance of obtaining them all in a random trial is only one part in (1020)2,000=1040,000, an outrageously small probability that could not be faced even if the whole universe consisted of organic soup.

In terms of complexity, an individual cell is nothing when compared with a system like the mammalian brain. The human brain consists of about ten thousand million nerve cells. Each nerve cell puts out between ten thousand and one hundred thousand connecting fibers by which it makes contact with other nerve cells in the brain. Altogether the total number of connections in the human brain approaches 1015 or a thousand million million. Numbers in the order of 1015 are of course completely beyond comprehension. Imagine an area about half the size of the USA (one million square miles) covered in a forest of trees containing ten thousand trees per square mile. If each tree contained one hundred thousand leaves the total number of leaves in the forest would be 1015, equivalent to the number of connections in the human brain! Despite the enormity of the number of connections, the ramifying forest of fibers is not a chaotic random tangle but a highly organized network in which a high proportion of the fibers are unique adaptive communication channels following their own specially ordained pathway through the brain. Even if only one hundredth of the connections in the brain were specifically organized, this would still represent a system containing a much greater number of specific connections than in the entire communications network on Earth."


Unfortunately, Crick came to another conclusion (1970's) about "the Creator," summarized as follows:
Some extraterrestrial civilization of another solar system, because of the fear of extinction, decided to "seed" other planets with the essence of their live matter. So they sent frozen bacteria out into space, and eventually it reached earth. While on earth, it was these live bacteria from outer space that evolved into life as we see it now...

The sad thing is, Crick had confided to a fellow professor that he didn't really believe his own theory, and his purpose in espousing this theory was to get people to drop all previous theories that they held as true (such as the chemical soup theory, and the mutation theory, etc., all of them built on the idea that live matter can evolve from dead matter, which he held can't be true) and give them an idea which they can relate to, such as unmanned rockets with live bacteria in them, to hold on to. Not that he really believed his own crazy story (though many did/still do), but it was to help people understand that this world could only have developed from live matter. He just didn't want to admit to a "Creator" with no scientific theory/proof - so he went to this extreme instead.

And to me, that's very sad. I think we were standing at the very same crossroad, decades apart. Today, I'm again amazed God spoke to me through a dead cat...with "faith like a child."