I can't get their cries out of my head.

To this day, whenever I enter ANY structure, I plan my escape.

It was 1989, I was 24 years old just out of college two years and working for Franklins Printing as a press operator. It was just another summer day in Atlanta with me anticipating a long holiday weekend.

The power went suddenly brown out condition and my press relays tripped so the clutches disengaged and it ground to a stop with the motors humming. It annoyed me. There was booming like thunder and my first thoughts were my weekend was going to be ruined.

Little did I know.

I went to the front of the printshop and there was no sun. The sky was black, like tornado black. Then came the rain. Like hail rain, it was bouncing off the sidewalk.

Then the horrifying reality hit me.There was office furniture falling from the sky. People were smashing the windows out. About that time the fire bell rang for not even a second followed by a huge bang and the building fell silent and dark.

I opened the door and stepped out to look up. There was this thick, black, tar like smoke pouring out where the 6th floor used to be. Furniture and glass was falling around me as I couldn't comprehend what was happening. Smoke was now boiling from the ground and the acrid smell of pine tar filled the air. The undergound electrical bus was now ablaze as the exploding bolts separated the main bus off the grid.

It dawned on my that I had to do something as the figures emerged from the smoke screaming for help that I could not give.

I ran to the corner of the block and pulled the fire alarm, then I pulled the other three on the block. As I pulled the third one, the wail of sirens could be heard coming up Peachtree Street.

People were now streaming out of the building as I went back in to get my coworkers. The people on the 6th floor were clamoring over each other to get any air and continue to beg for help that seemed a lifeitme away. As I made my way to my employer, a woman jumped and landed beside me. I thought it killed her. She was bleeding from her mouth, nose, her bones were sticking out of her legs and she was unconscious. I rolled her onto her back so she could breath.

By now the first ladder truck arrived. I asked my boss to stay with her and I physically dragged a firefighter over to her. He got on his radio and called for medical help.

We were ushered across the street as the responders got busy rescuing victims. The ladder truck was already to the gaping windows and people were climbing down before the truck's pads were even down.

This day, every year. For 33 years. Their cries come back and the overwhelming guilt sets in.

Tonight I drink for the victims.

Peachtree 25th - June 30 1989

Hell on Earth!!! I pray that I never see something like that!!1

I wasn't near there but lived in Atlanta then and remember.
Somehow it seems like years earlier.
Live your life but always be prepared for the unexpected.

The fire started after what the AJC described as “a series of electrical explosions, which occurred as a maintenance worker attempted to change a fuse after a power failure.”

Thoughts are with you tonight. Thank you for doing what you could.

Yes too traumatic to forget.
I had to look it up. I knew nothing of that fire. Glad you made out alive.

.

Mars_Attacks,

Sounds like that woman you rolled over and got help for was the one in this article that survived a 60 foot fall.

https://www.ajc.com/news/actua...WvgIMe5VuaLFeasLU9J/

A drink. To you. To the victims.

You have PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder); I once got into a shootout (1963 - Cleveland, Ohio
area). I still have recurring memories of the human being wearing a light blue T shirt in the sights of my Colt 357 revolver; the explosive report; then a fellow agent yelling "he's down, Mike - I'm going in". I recall this event very often; like when I'm trying to get to sleep. You have my sympathy!