I had a near death experience on Wednesday. At roughly noon I got stuck in the Webster Hall elevator for about 21 minutes. I would love to tell you that it was the most frightening thing ever, but that wouldn’t be true.

So here is the story, I went to my class at noon in the Leggett & Platt Athletic Center just to find out that my teacher was going to be gone that day. So I turned around and walked back to Webster Hall, where I met the elevator.

I stepped into the elevator and pressed “3” so that I could use the spare time to work on this week’s wonderful publication. The elevator started its notoriously slow ascent and I was thinking about what I needed to do to make an 800-word story and a 400 word story fill an entire page. Then it happened the elevator went “ding” as if to say “We have arrived at your destination, congratulations on a safe journey.” But something was different. The door didn’t open.

My initial thought was “piece of crap”. Five minutes passed and I was still in the elevator that’s when I realized that maybe I should call someone. I called The Chart offices and my boss and Editor-in-Chief Rebecca Watts answered.

Rebecca: “Chart office this is Becca.”

Me: “Becca I need you to go out and call for the elevator.”

Rebecca: “Why?”

Me: ” Because I am in it.”

Watts ran into the hall and pushed the button but nothing happened so she had to run back to the office and call the physical plant. After calling them another staff member asked why she had called the physical plant.

Rebecca- “Our sports editor is stuck in the elevator”

Staff member- “Oh man, I hope he’s gotta pee!”

Aside from the immense amount of remorse and concern from my co-workers, there was also a logical thought amongst the group.

TR Hanrahan (walking down the hall by the elevator)- “Where’s my sports page?!?!?!”

Granted it was Wednesday and that is the day that the paper gets put together and my page was… behind, to say the least.

Eventually, through sheer grit and determination, the physical plant guys pried the door open and a small congregation consisting of Watts, Dr. Clark, and the physical plant guys.

I am okay though, don’t worry about sending me an email. But for your own sake don’t ride the elevator.