The actual job I landed was as a warehouse supervisor, managing about 30 old ladies who checked in and price ticketed all of the apparel that was to be sold in the 5 stores Hahne's operated in New Jersey, including the flagship location in Newark. The warehouse was located on the top floor of the store. Trucks with the store merchandise would deliver on the street level, or "the walk" as it was known, and then the merchandise would be delivered up to the fourth floor where I worked, via 1 of the 2 giant freight elevators.
My area would check in the apparel deliveries, make price tickets, ticket the merchandise, then separate the orders that were destined for each of the five stores and then from there they would be transferred out daily in the merchandise "cages" via a daily truck run.
The other side of the warehouse did the same with most of the non apparel merchandise that the store sold.Working at Hahne's was like being in the cast of a soap opera, with a heavy dose of daily human drama. Working in retail is not for the faint of heart, as it's a very dynamic, stressful business, with a lot of pressure and daily, critical deadlines to meet.
One particular day though will always stick in my mind.
My immediate boss was a guy named Art who had limitless energy as he practically ran from one side of the warehouse to the other on a daily basis. He was really a nice guy who took me under his wing and taught me many lessons on how to handle people.
On this fateful day, Art was rushing around as usual and for some reason was going down to "the walk" and was going to use the old freight elevator, which was side by side with the "new " elevator. This old elevator was operated by hand, as you had to pull these giant thick cables to get the elevator to start moving. What happened next was never fully explained, but just as Art was getting on the elevator, Eddie, the guy who was riding down with Art and who was controlling the elevator, pulled the cable to get it moving just as Art was in the process of getting on it. As a result, Art lost his balance and his body fell into the small space between the elevator car and the elevator shaft. He was literally pressed and scraped between the small space between the cement elevator shaft and the body of the elevator.I was doing my usual stuff on the other side of the warehouse when someone came running over and said Mr. H was injured in an elevator accident. I rushed over to the other side of the warehouse, made my way down to to walk area on the street, where an there was already a chaotic scene that included an ambulance ,fire rescue trucks, and the police. I looked in the elevator which was mangled by the rescue guys in the process of extricating Art out of it.(The outside of the elevator and "the walk" are shown in the photo below. The door that has the pink heart on it is THE elevator)
Next thing I knew, I was in the ambulance with my boss, flying down to the hospital that was close by. Art looked like he had been through a war, with giant bandages on the wounds he suffered on his torso and extremities.He was strapped into a gurney, talking like he was a crazy person, and obviously suffering from shock. He was in critical condition. He babbled something to me about not telling his wife Peggy right away about his condition.
I was flipping out, ready to cry , and totally devastated. We made it quickly to the hospital and the rest of that day's experience is a blur. I do remember walking back to Hahne's after they stabilized Art and completing the rest of my day in a trance. I visited Art many times in the hospital after that day and eventually he did return to work, with a pronounced limp and some other visible damage.
Twenty or so years later, there was a human interest article about my old boss in our local paper. It did not mention that fateful day and Art's near fatal elevator accident.
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