Surley and I had quite the eventful morning.
We started off with our usual walk through downtown Minneapolis and along the Loring Greenway. It was a beautiful day. We stretched our legs a little further and wandered through Loring Park. It looks strikingly different without the usual Pride festivities filling every inch.
Then we crossed the Irene Hixon Whitney pedestrian bridge over Interstate I-94, Hennepin Avenue, and Lyndale Avenue. I stopped to snap a picture of Surley, who was looking particularly dashing in the breeze.
We entered the Sculpture Garden after rolling off of the bridge. This brought on a wave of memories. I remembered the time my Aunt Kate took my sister and me there one summer during a visit. She capped the trip off with Sebastian Joe’s ice cream, which triggered an instant craving. Nostalgia always knows where your sweet tooth lives.
It had been a few years since I’d been there so I looked up the address on their website. I discovered they had affogato on the menu, espresso over ice cream, and that was it. We were going.
After a few minor detours thanks to road construction in the area, classic Minnesota summer, we made it. I ordered affogato with chocolate peanut butter ice cream. Unexpectedly bold and delightful. Then I spotted the chocolate chip cookies and, well, you know how that goes.
Cue: emergency mode.
So there I was cookie in one hand, affogato in the other, soaking in the calm of a summer morning…
…and then my phone buzzed.
“help i am stuck in elevator”
At first I was a little confused. It was random and out of the blue. I sent a follow up message seeking clarification. When I didn’t get a response, I sent another message. After not hearing back for about five minutes, I started to get worried. This was outside of his normal behavior.
Jason managed to send another message with a few more details. He was stuck between the basement and first floor of our apartment building, where cell signal was weak. The elevator’s emergency call box was no help—unsurprising, given that he’s Deaf and has low vision.
He also sent a brief video. From that, I called 911 and explained the situation: a Deaf and low vision person was trapped in an elevator. I let them know the office was closed and no one was answering the phone. Thanks to the video, I could tell the dispatcher exactly which elevator he was in and where it had stopped.
Quick PSA: Many counties in Minnesota, including Hennepin, support text-to-911. It’s a good choice for folks who can’t speak or hear during emergencies. But not everyone knows it’s available, and it doesn’t always work well underground.
Once help was on the way, I woke Surley from his nap on the cool tile floor and jogged home.
Poor Surley, tongue lolling and tail wagging, worked hard to keep pace. He trotted beside me as we walked home at mach 10 like a champ.
By the time we returned, Jason had just gotten out with help from the fire department. He was headed to the store with a friend. He was okay: hot, sweaty, but safe.
Afterwards
Later, we sat down. We talked through everything that had happened. The more I heard, the more disturbing the story became.
Jason had taken the elevator down to grab some things from his storage unit. When it stopped in the basement, the doors didn’t open. He tried hitting the “door open” button. Nothing. He attempted to go back up to the first floor. He swiped his fob for access to his floor. Still nothing.
Because of his low vision, he had trouble seeing what floor the elevator thought it was on. There were no audible cues. He pressed the emergency “help” button. He wasn’t sure whether it activated. The indicator was too small and hard to see. He backed up further and got on his knees. Only then was he able to see the blinking red light. He used text-to-speech on his iPhone. He said, “I’m Deaf, stuck in elevator.”
He also tried live captioning on his phone to transcribe the audio from the speaker. He hoped it would tell him that someone was on the line. No matter where he placed his phone nothing came through clearly enough to be transcribed into words. Even though he is deaf, he can hear static and muffled sounds when using his hearing aids. However, he cannot make out words in detail.
He stayed surprisingly calm, even though his hands were shaking, which made texting and filming difficult. He immediately noticed somewhat bright yellow light just below the floor display. It was a fire dept override. This reassured him that the fire department was here. It put him at ease that they were working to get him out.
Eventually, the fire department and an elevator tech arrived and got the doors open. Jason had to step up about a foot to climb out: hot, rattled, and understandably frustrated. But he was, in his own words later, “unfazed.” (Though I think he was being generous with himself.)
After the dust settled, I spoke with our apartment manager.
I explained why I called 911. They told me I should’ve left a message on the office line. They assured me they would have responded promptly.
Now look I get the desire for tenants to follow procedure. But here’s the thing: there was no one in the office. No one answered the phone. The voicemail simply said, “Leave a message for maintenance emergencies.”
This wasn’t a dripping faucet. A Deaf and low vision resident was stuck in a sealed metal box. There was no clear way for him to call for help. He was starting to overheat. I wasn’t about to wait and hope someone checked their voicemail.
If I hadn’t answered his text message what would’ve happened? How long would Jason have waited?
He pushed the “help” button in the elevator. He was using text-to-speech to relay a message. Did the dispatcher realize they were speaking to someone who couldn’t hear them? Was the dispatcher aware of the communication barrier? Did they think it was pressed by accident? Would they have done anything?
I didn’t want to find out the hard way. So I called 911. And I’d do it again.
But it raises some real concerns.
People with disabilities are often left out of emergency planning. Even when the systems are technically in place, they don’t always work when you truly need them. This includes systems like text-to-911 and live captions.
WWYD (What Would You Do?)
So, I pose this question to you:
If you were in my shoes…
Would you have called 911?
Would you have left a voicemail and waited?
Would you have done something else?
Let me know in the comments. If you live in an apartment building, especially one with older elevators, take a minute. Check what your emergency plan looks like. Talk to your neighbors. Learn your options.
Because accessibility shouldn’t depend on luck. It shouldn’t hinge on a single person being available to answer a phone. It should be built in — thoughtfully, thoroughly, and proactively.
Call to Action
If you didn’t know about text-to-911, now you do. Check your local county’s website to confirm it’s available where you live. Share this post with someone who might not be aware. Accessibility starts with awareness.
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