The Fortress
Something's
missing, isn't it?
We've
prepared a special report on disaster-survival techniques, but
you'll find precious few lessons from a tragedy that profoundly
affected the construction community.
It's the
impetus for this section: a study of what we've learned from
the collapse of Miller Park's Big Blue crane.
We're
certainly not short on irresponsible speculation about what made
the crane fall, although you won't
read that in this newspaper.
There's
plenty of low grumbling among contractors and people with no
business on the site - passersby - who, in the absence of real
information, gossip among themselves.
You won't
find that here.
The speculators
are vocal. They don't even wait for us to call. They issue press
releases and contact our reporters and me personally.
They're
looking for us to fan the flames.
I remember
the lesson of one of my favorite journalism teachers: "Ignore
the obvious. That person jumping up and down in front of you
has an ulterior motive."
We'll
wait for the investigators to complete their work.
So absent
counterproductive guesses, we turned our attention toward learning
how to survive in the aftermath of disaster.
We wanted
to know how subcontractors are making ends meet while they wait
for work to resume, how insurance claims are being handled, where
contracts stand and how public and private investigators proceed.
We were
searching for the lessons the industry can carry forward.
We knocked
on the doors of the stadium district, general contractor HCH
Joint Venture and individual subcontractors. We called private
accident investigators and state OSHA officials.
We called,
we knocked, we rang bells, we peeked in windows.
We encountered
what I call "The Fortress."
The day
after the accident, general contractor HCH faxed a warning to
subcontractors: Don't talk to reporters.
Subcontractors
often cite that directive in turning away our invitations to
share their stories.
"We've
been instructed not to talk to the media about the stadium,"
one subcontractor told our reporter. "I don't want to risk
any repercussions."
OSHA officials
- public officials - declined to comment on how they conduct
major accident investigations. We didn't ask about their conclusions,
just about how the system works.
The private
investigators looking into Miller Park for the stadium district
wouldn't speak to us about the nature of their work and how data
from such investigations are used.
Stadium
district officials avoided our questions about the status of
subcontracts. Even as subcontractors quietly indicated otherwise,
the public stadium district's officials said they "encourage"
subcontractors to speak openly and honestly with the press.
Well,
after a few weeks of living with all these evasive maneuvers,
I've decided that phone calls aren't enough. In the interests
of the industry, I'm ready to take a battering ram to The Fortress.
"If
you think that shutting off access stops (the news media) from
reporting the story, they're going to get information anyway,"
Milwaukee public-relations consultant Carl Mueller said. "They're
in the job of reporting information and if they can't get complete
information, they'll take what they can get and play catch up
later."
Mueller
should know. He's in the business of keeping public-relations
crises from turning into media nightmares.
Silence
fuels questions. I might wonder aloud: "What have they got
to hide?" "What are they protecting?" "Why
are the subcontractors afraid to talk?" There are a lot
of insurance dollars they stand to lose. Many can't afford to
walk away from their Miller Park contracts.
Is this
what happens in public/private partnerships? The public entity
says, "We believe in full disclosure" knowing full
well that its private counterpart issues directives preventing
subcontractors from talking about the status of their businesses.
Do subcontractors
have to keep their troubles to themselves in fear of losing lucrative
contracts? Are they hiding behind the "order" from
HCH because they're hoping for sizable insurance payouts?
See, when
no one answers, the friendly knock on the door grows more forceful.
Yes, I'm
trying to shake up everyone who reads this, because there will
be another accident, another big financial disaster, another
nightmare.
Three
people died in this accident. Millions of dollars and the futures
of more than a few businesses rest with those who will sift through
all the claims.
There's
still plenty of that in this section - great practical lessons
from brave people willing to talk about what happened them, how
they survived their crises and what they'd do differently.
They understand
that, as an industry, we have to talk about it if we're going
to carry away anything but wreckage.
- Liz
Oplatka
