By Freddie Reed

The trip was supposed to be uneventful for me, my mother Anna Reed, and my friend Fletcher Bor (‘27). Leave school early on Friday, take a connecting flight to Chicago, and eventually end up in Austin, Texas. The day after we arrive, we will get a tour of the University of Texas campus from my mother’s intern and go to a Texas men’s basketball game against their rivals, Texas A&M. The next day: make the trip to Houston, walk around Rice University, and leave the following morning. Little did we know something would happen that would stick with us forever.

Otis Hotel in Austin, Texas. Photo credit: Hospitality Online.

After a long flight and a quick car ride, we made it to the Otis Hotel in Austin. Bor and I snagged some complementary vinyl records for the record player in the room and headed upstairs. Once we arrived at our room, we made the shocking discovery that there was only one bed. I called my mom and asked if her room had two beds, and if we could switch. She informed us that we would have to either share the bed or switch off each night. We both were very disappointed but decided not to let it bring our moods down. 

My mother told us to be back downstairs by 10:00 p.m., giving us around twenty minutes to get settled. Around five minutes before ten, we decided to head downstairs for a late dinner with my mom. Bor and I were both visibly excited for the trip when we stepped into the elevator on the 10th floor. Bor must have been overly joyful, because as the elevator started moving, he jumped up. This jump seemed like nothing special, but a second later, the elevator came to a halt. 

It took a moment for the realization to kick in, but once it did, I looked at Bor and said, “Did you really get us stuck in an elevator?” 

We acted like it was not going to be a big deal and started clicking the buttons to see if they would work. Nothing was working, and the elevator showed no sign of moving, so we pressed the call button. After a short period, an operator spoke to us through the elevator speakers. He asked us questions about where we were and which elevator we were in. 

I had assumed that the call button on the elevator connected you to the front desk of the hotel, but apparently, it does not. Instead, we were connected to the elevator service company. I gave the person my phone number so we could talk. He talked us through what was going on and told us we were going to be okay. These people were a tremendous help and walked us through what they were doing to get us out. 

About midway through my conversation with the service company, an alarm started going off that sounded like a police siren. It would inconsistently go on and off, it was terrible to listen to, and one of the buttons on the panel was flashing red. This meant that the fire department was on the way. We thought that we would be out in no time, but that was not the case. At this time, Bor and I were starting to get worried and realized this was not going to be just an inconvenience.

After an hour of being stuck, we were bored. We had run out of topics to discuss and sat there in silence. I suddenly had a great idea and decided to conduct an official interview with Bor about his experience so far. 

I started recording on my phone, and midway through my opening question, a firefighter started to talk to us through the intercom and asked if we could hear him. He gave us the rundown of the situation and told us not to worry. He told us that we were stuck between two different floors, and that was the reason the operation had taken so long. Again, he reassured us everything was going to be alright. Once he was done talking, I continued with the interview. 

Bor told me that “I have no criticisms for the experience,” and that “everything went relatively well.” The only thing that he had to say was, “We could have gotten out faster.” This was largely because we were stuck between two floors. This lengthened the process and was the main reason the rescue took multiple hours. 

Frustration sets in an hour into getting stuck. Photo credit: Freddie Reed. 

During the final stretch of the journey, Bor and I were not feeling well. We both were dehydrated and hungry. I sat down while Bor paced around the elevator, which was approximately the size of a walk-in closet, or a large pantry.

Nothing adventurous happened until one of the firemen busted open a hatch in the top and climbed down into the elevator with us. He was about what I had imagined for a fireman, large and muscular, but he was shorter than I expected. He told us to put on harnesses, similar to those used in rock climbing. We decided to play rock, paper, scissors to decide who went first, and I prevailed. Bor and I were then hoisted up one at a time out of the elevator and were freed from this excursion. 

We headed down four flights of stairs, because the elevator was out of commission. After a sigh of relief and giving both of us a hug, my mother told me that she had ordered some food, and it should be waiting in the lobby restaurant. When we got down to the lobby, there was no food to be seen. We asked around, and somebody told us that a maid had thrown the food away. The front desk apologized and decided to order us sushi from DoorDash, free of charge. They also offered us another room with two beds in it. On the way to the new room, the manager informed us that we could take anything from the snack bar without paying. After eating up the sushi that we had ordered, we both fell asleep. 

The next morning, before we toured UT, my mother told us that she had gotten the rooms compensated, and we wouldn’t have to pay a dime. We were all very excited, which made us wonder if it was all worth it. 

The rest of the trip went according to plan, but none of us will forget the time we got stuck in an elevator.

Featured image credit: Freddie Reed.