A Very Tragic Day!

There are a few significant days that I remember vividly, one is the birth of my son. It was a long day, and after failed attempts at a vaginal birth, we rushed to the hospital from the birthing center for an emergency C-section. I was not there for my Daughter's birth 5 years earlier. But aside from that, there are two days which are indellibly scratched into my brain. February 8th and February 9th, 1996.

There are many things about those 2 days that I have previously shared in one writing or another, but I am not sure if I gave all the sordid details.

I was working for Tuned-In Broadcasting, and we occupied the L&C Towers on 4th and Church Street in Nashville, the 30th and 31st floor, the top two floors of the building. I don't remember at that point how long I had been working there, but I was doing several jobs, including some on-air shifts, copywriting for sales staff, writing marketing proposals, producing the Nashville Knights hockey games.

It was about 11:30 on Thursday the 8th of February when I was at the front desk, answering phones, and a young lady came in and asked if the observation deck was open to the public, it was. She asked to see it. At that time there was no accompanying guests on the deck as there was never an indication that anything serious could or was likely to happen.

After allowing her to visit the deck, I went on about my business. After about 20 minutes, she came back in and thanked me and asked me if it was alright if she came back tomorrow. I said sure! There was nothing eventful about that day just looking at it from the day.

But then, it was Friday.

Although it was 30 years ago this year, the memories of the day are as vivid as the day they happened. Around lunch time, again, Morningstar Green (her name I would learn later) appeared out of the elevator. She was wearing blue jeans and a dark grey hoodie. She had a determined look on her face and did not stop at the front desk for permission to go onto the deck. I wasn't worried, although I should have been.

Lunch time arrived, and my friend Lyndie and I went down the elevator and walked to the arcade (a place filled with eateries and shops for the downtowners). We had lunch and returned about 45 minutes later. My boss Kimberly Morrisey was at the desk as my relief. She relinquished the station and I went back to work, never thinking again about the visitor on the deck, rather assuming that during my lunch break she had left.

She hadn't.

She had apparently taken up a spot on the east side of the building where the windows were covered by thick curtains on the end of the building that was the home of Bone Magazine, an offshoot of Tuned-In Broadcasting.

The day went on without any idea of what was boiling outside until a call from the First American Bank building (now Regions).

The caller reached Kimberly. Kimberly came to me, and now I was in the WRLG studio doing my afternoon air shift as a DJ. Kimberly said, "We just got a call from the bank building saying that there was someone on the ledge and it looks like they are going to jump."

I did not know instantly that it was the young lady that I allowed to visit the observation deck, but when Kimberly asked ME to go out and see what was happening, I got the sick sense that it was indeed her.

Time was still relatively steady in my mind, there was nothing troubling nor was there a sense of urgency make the approach. The next :30 seconds would be the shortest and the longest of my life. Shortest out the door, but longest in my memory.

Because the building was in the shape of an L, the inside vertex, or the point where the horizontal meets the vertical, was where the large sliding glass doors led to the deck. Once on the deck, it was a left down the long side of the building. Another left led to the short corridor, and another left led to the 4th Street side of the building. From the phone call, I knew that she was likely perched on the 4th Street side, and when I turned on the corridor leg, she was not visible, so I was correct.

The very thing that occurred next was swift and calculated. A surety that I did not see at the time, but upon reflection was quite obvious. The act required a catalyst. I was the catalyst.

There was about 6 feet of distance from the corridor sliding glass door (each end of the building had one as well as the center), the corridor door was the offices of Bone Magazine. As I passed that final door, I could begin to see around the corner of the building facing the street. First, I saw a hand, grasped on the metal rail. It was a smooth tubular railing that was attached with the same type vertical rail imbedded into the 4 foot concrete wall. Then I saw the silhoutte of the young lady. Dark Hoodie, blue jeans, tennis shoes. It flashed so quickly in my mind. Her bottom was setting on the rail. The right hand also grasped on the opposite side rail.

She sensed my presence, turned her head to the right to make eye contact with me, as she stood she released her hands from the rail, never losing eye contact. Her feet planted on the small edge of concrete. Her left foot left the wall first, followed by her right as she lurched ever so slightly forward. Purposefully. She relinquished eye contact and then focused on her descent. Her arms windmilling so that she would stay upright.

In that moment, I rushed toward the edge, in my mind I could grab her and keep her from falling, but the scenario was too quick, too unexpected. But as I reached the edge, I was locked on Morningstar Greene as she passed by 30 floors of the L&C Building. The first floor of the tower was a copy store, the roof of which jutted out from the rest of the building, and within seconds, she was at ground level, careening off the copy center roof and ejected onto the street missing the 8 foot wide concrete sidewalk.

Recalling this now, it does not even seem real, though I know it was. I can't remember exactly when I began screaming and crying at the top of my lungs, but it was quick to swell. As I remember, I was the only one on the deck with her, I ran back inside where I had exited. Yelling, "She Jumped, she fucking jumped," bellowing, tears flowing uncontrollably. Kimberly was the first to rush to my side. I was shuddering, wailing, the next several minutes were a blur, but somewhere in my chaos, I looked out the doors to the observation deck and noticed the big green sign letters positioned on the deck "L-E-A-P"

I looked to my left and saw Rusty. He was concerned for me, but keeping his distance. Without saying a word, I caught his eye and motioned my eyes and head toward the deck. He turned to look and immediately knew what I was saying. He went on to the deck and moved the letters so that they were no longer an Omen for the young woman that did exactly what the sign suggested.

I am not sure how long after that it was, but our GM Ned Horton, and the Owner Lester Turner showed up to lend me support. I was taken into Ned's office where I sat. It was not long after that the police showed up to survey the situation and ask me what happened. I gave them the exact explanation I just outlined for you, with one missing detail. The Letters L-E-A-P. It was not that I thought there was any culpibility on the station's part, but just the irony of it felt like a detail that needed to be omitted.

A couple days passed, and I was at the front desk again when the elevator opened and 4 people stepped out. An older woman, two young women and a young man. Family. The older woman was Morningstar's mother. I don't remember any introductions, but there were, she embraced me warmly and said to me, "We don't blame you!" Which I felt at the time was inappropriate to even begin to assess blame to anyone, but after hearing Morningstar's story, I realized that she was determined to take her own lift and no one was going to stop that from happening.

I am sure that I could come up with more details of that day, like the Sony Walkman with the Green Day Cassette blaring Brain Stew/Jaded, but none would make the picture any clearer. It was a tragic day, a very tragic day.

When I tell this story, people usually ask me how am I dealing with it today? I shrug, Good! I mean, what else can I do? I choose to remember it now and then, just to keep her memory alive. To remember that trauma can create a scenario that only leaves one way out for some. People leave this world every day. Some on their own, many by the hands of others, and some through the passing of time. But no matter what, we all leave...eventually.