Elevators Through Time - Book 1

Part 1: History in the Making

Part 1: History in the Making

Year: 1852

Time: (Clock function in repair)

Location: Crystal Palace, New York, America

Level: Ground

...a few job placements later...

My name is Alexander Romeo Julian. Just call me Rome.

I am a historian and herbalist.

I wear a long light-brown coat as a historian, and a grey shirt and apron as a herbalist.

I have seen many amazing things, and thanks to my herbs, medicines and a certain ability of mine, I will be fortunate enough to see more.

The year is 1852 and I had planned to go to the exhibition at the Crystal Palace, in New York, where the famous safety brake for the elevator was publicly revealed. I had treated one John Richter, an investor and owner of a few of building companies, for some stomach troubles and so had gotten to know him well as a friend and confidant, so he personally invited me to join.

I was in the audience looking up as that gentleman Otis asked the assistant to cut the cable which was supporting the platform that he was standing on, along with some heavy boxes. As alarming as it sounds, it wasn't as alarming as the expression on his face. He was calm and with not a trace of doubt in his mind that he would not break his legs in the next few seconds.

Of course, I as well as everyone around me took a glance at the contraption that was fashioned above him and connected to the cable which was about to be cut.

We didn't think it meant much. 'Just a bit of steel to hit the chap on the head as he went down', we all thought.

We were all perplexed as to what it did, although a few faint nods and chin-stroking, hummers next to me had grasped the concept once they saw it.

The elevator carriage runs along two outside rails with wheels. The rope is attached to an arm consisting of several leaf springs that, once pulled down by the weight of the box as well as the occupants inside, will bend and remain under tension as long as the rope is attached.

Once the rope breaks, the leaf springs are loosened and they spread sideways, thus catching on the sides of an additional pair of rails. At both ends of the tension arm are tough reinforced ledges that are designed to catch and hold the weight when necessary only. These additional rails have teeth to which the ends of the leaf springs latch onto. Both sides of the arm catch onto the opposing teeth on the extra rack rail and the platform halts suddenly at almost the same spot where the rope broke.

The gallant Elisha G. Otis took his top hat off, took a bow and said, "All safe gentlemen, all safe."

The audience, once snapped out of their premature horror of possibly seeing a man elaborately break his legs, cheered and gadded about among each other at how this would save many lives and make using an elevator safer... and reassure people that the box and string weren't a risky proposition as a means of reliable vertical transportation.

John Richter approached Mr Otis and offered him a sizeable amount to utilise such a device to ensure safe transport for people in his 5-storey that he was planning to build in a growing city nearby. I was standing by Richter noting down these events.

"I say, Otis my good man, come down from there and listen."

Otis proceeded down and seemed to have a little bounce in his step as he got off the ladder that was provided by his assistant.

"Can you guarantee that this will work all the time, and won't be affected by the heat of the day?" Richter goaded, the straight-to-the-evident-point man he was.

Otis touched the brim of his hat and bowed slightly, a common sign recognisable to all who knew him that he would work hard to ensure his trust was well deserved.

"You can trust that your feet and whatever is carried aloft, shall not see the ground at a speed that doesn't agree with the contents of the elevator," Otis smiled.

The two men held hands and smiled the smiles of men who looked like they had united a band of dispersed workers from a failed dam construction. In fact they could rightly do so, as more people could work in the higher levels of tall buildings and not worry about the exhausting stairs or the dangerous way people would haul heavy loads up or down them.

This was an innovation among innovations. The start of something new.

I waited a few moments before starting towards them.

"Me Otis, excuse my Mr Otis," I called, with an obviously annoying first impression designed entirely to test his patience.

Elisha G. Otis was not a tall or even a short man. I expected he'd be short after seeing him high above on the platform. He was the same height as me although a few centimetres taller. His historical suit and top hat and coat were clean and well pressed.

He turned to greet me without any hint of annoyance.

'This man IS great' I thought to myself.

"A.R. Julian, at your service," I introduced myself, extending a friendly arm to him.

Mr Otis was about to grasp my hand but recoiled when he heard my last name.

"Do you come with good intentions, Mr Julian? Or do you seek to steal my faith and inventions?" He said in a tone that made me think I was a boy again, being told to sit in the corner and think about what I'd done.

"Uh, I do not understand. Please do not mistake me for someone of similar affiliation or title. I am new here." I replied, somewhat taken aback from this change in atmosphere. There was a lot of competition back in the times of invention, but I never knew there were any Julian's in this era.

Mr Otis' expression relaxed and smiled.

"Oh, do forgive me sir. The Julian & Co firm have been constantly hounding me for my ideas and have really given me much worry. I mistook you for one of their type. Dreadfully sorry," Otis apologised and shook my hand.

My heart sighed with relief. Here I thought I was out for a fool thinking the real man might be a drunkard.

Mr Otis held my hand for a second longer then looked into my face.

"Mr Julian, is anything the matter? Your grasp is firm, yet I feel a quiver... The like of which only resides in those...

He spoke in lower tones.

...in fear for their life..."

The two men looked at me and I nodded discreetly, still aware that we were only a small distance from the crowd of onlookers.

"Mr Otis, a word if you please," came a repeated phrase from several people behind us with papers and pens at the ready.

I let go of the hand that saw through me. I whispered to him that we should discuss this somewhere appropriate.

He nodded and Mr Richter patted my shoulder in sympathy and respect, knowing from experience that friends need discretion while dealing with followers with mal-intent.