It finally happened.
The Intel building that stood at the western edge of the Warehouse District since roughly the early Mesozoic Era — the one that served to remind us all that prosperity is fleeting, dreaming is a fool’s errand, and someone else should always clean up our messes — was demolished this morning before a crowd of hundreds.
Photo slideshow of the implosion »
Though Mayor Will Wynn fought to repurpose the structure in light of the booming downtown real estate market, a federal courthouse will be built in its place. Who needs fashionable housing or mixed-use retail space when we can witness challenges to water appropriation bills and the litigious machinations of flesh-eating lawyers?
That’s all moot now. After a half-hour delay — well, six years plus a half-hour — the unfinished Intel building imploded at 7:38am. Two series of blasts totaling more than 600 charges shattered key support columns, causing the framework to collapse into itself. Think of setting off two packs of Black Cats. Now replace those Black Cats with demolition-grade explosives. Now imagine standing 100 yards away.
Sweet.
We clapped, whistled, and cheered. Some of us were glad to see the thing gone, but they vast majority of us turned out to see something get blown up. (Correction: blown in.) The atmosphere was that of excitement and awe. Even the stern-faced APD seemed to enjoy the novelty. I think I even saw a smile beneath one of those broomish mustaches.
We lingered on after the last columns had fallen, letting the adrenaline dissipate while leisurely taking in the strange sights and snapping pictures: the flattened building, the high-rise construction to the south, the massive, looming cloud of pulverized concrete and debris accelerating towards us…
As we looked skyward towards the grayish mass, we shared a single, collective thought: Shit! Before we could turn to run, the cloud was on top of us, dropping tiny clumps of dust onto our clothes and into our hair. Suddenly the air tasted chalky and burnt, and as we pulled our shirts above our noses or pressed our sleeves to our mouths, we couldn’t help but remember another rolling cloud of dust ejected from a flattened building. It was our second collective thought of the morning; as we ran east on Fourth Street, coughing and spitting, a guy wearing a pancho put it to words:
“Man, this is just like New York after them planes hit the towers!”
Yeah, exactly like New York. I mentally thanked Captain Obvious for the reminder, then turned around and snapped some pictures. Fourth Street was completely grayed out. Visibility had dropped to roughly 20 feet. In the distance, the police were blaring evacuation orders through loudspeakers: “This is a disaster area! This is a disaster area!”
It wasn’t fun anymore. People were kinda scared. The dust had already spread east beyond Congress, so our only refuge from the noxious dust was our cars. Luckily, TOP editor Kristin Hillery and I had parked nearby; we hopped in and, narrowly avoiding a handful of parking-lot mishaps with unnerved and anxious drivers, headed south towards home.
It’s clear city officials didn’t expect the fallout from the demolition to be so extensive. To ensure a good view, they allowed observers to stand along the eastern half of Guadalupe — far too close considering the size of the implosion. The whole operation smacked of naivety and haste.
Other media outlets are issuing glowing reports of this morning’s demolition. The Statesman’s embarrassingly titled All Ablog Austin feature parrots city officials and announces the implosion “went as planned.” The article’s most critical comment was a quote from a patron at the Headliners Club, where onlookers watched the building collapse from high atop the 21st floor of the Chase Tower downtown: “It didn’t go right… Now they’re going to have to come in with a wrecking ball [and finish the job].”
(I should note the Statesman took special care to note the privileged patrons’ diets. In case you’re wondering, the Headliners Club’s guests were served “a breakfast of warm eggs, tamales and sausages.”)
Things looked very different on the ground. Respiratory irritation, potentially hazardous particulates in the air, trampled by a running crowd — people could’ve been hurt. Maybe they were. The city should have kept onlookers further away or at least notified them to evacuate the area immediately after the blasts.
It was a helluva show, but waiting for the dust to settle was poor judgment.
Video of the implosion
The following video was submitted to YouTube by whurley, organizer of BarCampAustin.
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