Moving Stairs

When I was a youngster of 12, my immediate family plus my grandmother attended an Ice Capades show at the Houston Colliseum. To get to our seats, we had to take a tall, fast-moving escalator. I was behind my grandmother, a pillowy woman of considerable stature, as we stepped on to the escalator. My father was behind me.

My grandmother always wore open-toed sandals. When she stepped on to the escalator, she misjudged the tread, stumbled a bit and fell backward on to me. I held her upright as my dad held me upright. I remember screaming, “Stop the escalator!” Honestly, at that age I thought escalators ran all the time. I had never seen an escalator that wasn't running. With my vivid imagination, I was terrified my grandmother would lose her toes when we reached the top of the escalator.

With Dad mightily pushing on my back and I pushing on grandma’s back we managed to get her upright just in time to step off the escalator. It left all of us shaken by the experience; it also left me with a phobia ... oddly not of up escalators, but of down escalators. It took me 40 years to be able to step on to a down escalator without trepidation, my hesitancy often holding up impatient travelers behind me in line. Airport escalators were the worst. I’d stand at the top trying to judge the exact moment to step on to the moving stairs with my baggage. With time and practice, I conquered that fear. That fear returned when I spoke with my sister Colleen on Friday evening.

Colleen flew to Seattle Friday for a week-long cruise from The "Emerald City" to Alaska. Sis is taking the cruise with her friend Lane, who was joining Colleen from her home on the East Coast. Colleen planned the travel carefully. Prior to traveling, she completed two Covid tests - receiving negative results for both, was appropriately masked for the flight and had her passport and vaccination records with her. Colleen and Lane knew ahead of time they would have to be masked in public areas on the ship. None of this dampened their enthusiasm for the cruise.

After Colleen arrived at the overcrowded Sea-Tac Airport, she collected her checked luggage from the baggage carousel and headed for the area where hotel shuttles await arriving guests. This portion of the process required taking a fast-moving escalator. Colleen stepped on to the escalator, dragging her rolling luggage. The large suitcase didn’t immediately fit on the narrow stair. While attempting a juggling act, Sis lost her balance and tumbled head first down the moving escalator!

At the bottom of the escalator, the woman who was behind Colleen assisted her. (She wouldn’t leave Sis until she knew she was ok.) The escalator was stopped; medics arrived and put up a barrier around Colleen while they checked her for injuries.

Thankfully, Colleen didn’t break any bones; but she is covered in bruises and has minor cuts on her head where the metal escalator tread bit into her scalp during the tumble. Of most concern was a deep bruise on her left temple. That she walked away from this accident amazes me.

When I spoke with Colleen from her hotel and heard about her tumble, I was horrified, extremely worried, but ultimately relieved. Needless to say, I encouraged her to take the elevator next time, a practice I will follow in future travel.

When I checked in with Sis yesterday morning, she was really sore from the fall, but eager to begin the cruise. I received a text about Noon on Saturday; Colleen and Lane were safely aboard their Holland America cruise ship.

My sister and I may be in our sixties now, but hearing about Colleen’s incident brought back the feeling of intense fear I felt the afternoon when my grandmother fell. My desire to always protect those I love was thwarted ... the feelings of frustration I experience when I can’t keep my loves ones from harm, resurfaced. My phobia became my sister’s reality. I’m quite certain my fear of down escalators has been triggered again. I love you, Sis. Heal quickly, heal well and stay off moving stairs.