When the Storm Hit
By Drew Simmons
Twenty years ago the show dealt with disaster and tragedy in its midst—and the industry proved how it is a community.
What if there was a trade show where everyone stopped doing business and instead took the time to smile, breathe, and appreciate it all? Where precious booth space in prime locations was given away for free? Where casual hugs replaced business handshakes?
It happened once. In 1999, exactly 20 summers ago.
It wasn’t by design, and it came at the highest cost—a human life, dozens of catastrophic injuries, an estimated $170 million in damage. On August 11, an F2 tornado touched down in Salt Lake City, just a few blocks from the Outdoor Retailer show. There were exploding windows, gas leaks, flipped cars, flying kayaks. Shipping containers and portapotties became impromptu hiding spots.
I was the PR guy for the Show that year. In disaster situations, everyone has their own recollection. Here are my memories, pieced together with news reports, of how it went down:
Without advance warning, other than some seemingly innocuous Utah storm clouds, at 12:46 p.m., the tornado touched down, bringing with it winds up to 160 mph. It moved quickly to the north side of the Salt Palace Convention Center, destroying one outdoor Pavilion tent and seriously damaging the other. The Wyndham Hotel—where dozens of sales meetings were being held—sustained bomb-like damage to the exterior. Curtains flapped in the wind through shattered windows. Vehicles were tossed around like toys. Trees were snapped in half. Storm clouds hovered overhead, and broken glass littered the streets.
It quickly became clear that the Pavilions were the epicenter of tornado damage in downtown Salt Lake City. There was large scale confusion at the Pavilion site, as crowds of people converged on the area while others fled. Emergency vehicles and television crews arrived at the same time. There was no cell phone service, no landline phone service, and no electricity.
At around 1:15 p.m., with lightning still in the area, the Salt Palace was evacuated due to a gas leak. Volunteers ran through the convention center to make sure it was fully cleared, finding nothing but half-full cups of coffee and empty booths. At the same time, Salt Lake police arrived to “quarantine” the damaged Pavilions with chain-link fencing and guards following reports of looting. No one was allowed entry to the Pavilions—even exhibitors looking to retrieve samples or personal belongings.
By 4 p.m., a massive crowd had formed in the lobby of the nearby Marriott Hotel, which had become the new headquarters for show organizers. A small stakeholder gathering was convened to decide whether the show should continue in light of the injuries (a total of 81 with 12 of them critical) and one death (38-year-old Allen Crandy) as well as the fact that more than a third of total exhibitors had been in the Pavilions and would not be able to participate in the show.
At the stakeholder meeting, a plan was conceived to continue the show. The first piece was to delay the show start by a day, using the time for guided entry to the destroyed Pavilions so that exhibitors could retrieve their samples. The second part was to house displaced exhibitors on a voluntary, case-by-case basis. Two tables would be set up at the main entrance: one for orphaned Pavilion exhibitors and one for exhibitors willing to share their space for free. Initially the idea got a lukewarm reception—people were exhausted, and the idea was unprecedented. That said, it was the only idea. With phones still down, volunteers from the meeting waded out into the crowd gathered around the Marriott and explained the new show plan.
The industry embraced the concept of voluntary shared booth space. The response was staggering: Well before the end of the new set-up day, 220 exhibitors had found a home on the main floor of the Salt Palace, some with just a small card table and a handful of salvaged samples.
There were reports of strong business conducted at Summer Market 1999, but I didn’t really notice. What I did see was a room full of thousands of new acquaintances and old friends, talking and smiling—and just happy to be there.
Tell us your story. Were you there when the tornado hit? We want to hear your stories and publish them in the August Outdoor Retailer Magazine newsletter. Send your remembrances to connect@outdoorretailermag.com.