The carnival ride operator noticed the blue cooler first. It was small with soft sides, a zippered top and a pocket. The strap had broken, but it was still a perfectly good cooler. The ride he operated continued its up and down motion while spinning the screaming riders in a circle. It was fast, noisy and loud, like all good carnival rides and provided a quick thrill to the riders.
He had been operating it for a couple of years now and the fascination with the ride or the riders had waned. The cooler interested him more. What if someone had left beer in it? It might be getting hot as the riders screamed above him.
But he couldn’t step away until the ride ended and it had only started a few seconds before he noticed the cooler. It had another seventy-eight seconds, give or take, to go. The cooler that might contain heaven would have to wait until it ended. Then he could step away. If anyone asked, he could say it was a safety hazard where it sat, so near to the platform of the large ride. Someone could trip over it, hurt themselves, sue the carnival and make all of them unemployed. He’d be doing the carnival owners a favor by picking up the dangerous cooler.
The Hurricane stood nearly three stories tall. Six arms each held a single car at the end of them and swung the cars straight up to the full height of the ride and extended almost twenty-five feet out. As the arms moved up and down, it also spun the cars in a circle.
The ride had reached its apex. The arms of the massive moving mechanical monster were reaching the top of their arc. The centrifugal force was at its greatest as the cars attached to the arms spun around at full speed.
There was a loud noise and heat bathed the back of the ride operator for a few seconds before he died. The mechanical monster was damaged. The central pillar shook and rumbled loudly as it started to fall to one side. The arms, contorted in a way they were not meant to be twisted, broke. This stressed the pins holding on the cars, causing them to shear away. The cars came apart from the arms. Now much lighter, they were flung through the air like ammo out of a sling shot.
The screams of the passengers were lost by the loud noises coming from the collapsing ride. The riders were tossed against each other or hurled from the cars. Their bodies fell to the earth with loud thuds; also swallowed by the other noises.
Those on the ground, not directly impacted by the blast, watched as the Hurricane collapsed. A father, standing with his young son, cotton candy held in their hands, suddenly realized they were standing in the path of the falling tower. He dropped the fluffy candy and swept his son into his arms. He ran, with his son screaming and clutching the cotton candy so hard the stick crumbled in his tiny hands.
One car from the hurricane crashed into another ride, the Star Flyer. The sound of wrenching metal now became intolerable. Those on the ground, too stunned to run, covered their ears as another ride began a slow collapse. Chains began to break and tear loose of their fastenings as this swing-set style ride began to whine and groan. Adults and children were slung into the onlookers, crashing into them. The riders’ bodies were battered and broken. Those they crashed into were less fortunate, most dying upon impact.
One of the swings went over the fence that separated the arena from the fair. It crashed into the back of a grandstand. The commotion on the grandstand was a horrid spectacle. Once packed with fans of the truck and tractor pull going on, they were now stampeding for the exits, trampling each other to get away.
A group of teenagers were standing near the Sizzler. They backed up, pinning themselves against the fence as one of the swings, rider still in it and chains lashing out like whips, rushed at them. A few of them ran, the others dove over the fence as the swing crashed into the barrier. The chains ripped through the fiberglass of a few seats on the Sizzler, shredding them like newspaper.
The Rocko-Plane suffered structural damage as a piece of debris fell into the motor. It ground to a halt, stranding riders in cages, some turned upside down. They screamed for help, but help didn’t make it in time.
A piece of the Hurricane, still tearing itself apart as it slammed into the ground, flew up and hit one of the cages. The force from the metal crashing into the cage, dented it. The riders screamed louder. The bolts that held the cage on were old and the impact caused them to shimmy. The riders’ frantic movements loosened them more. The cage, located at the side of the ride, near the top, broke from its framework and began to fall. It slammed into another cage, sending it into a wild spinning frenzy. The passengers threw up a second before their own cage broke loose. The first cage hit the ground and split apart, sending the passengers sprawling across the ground. The second cage fell on top of the first and any survivors in the first cage were lost. Pieces of metal erupted into dagger-sharp spikes in the second cage, piercing a rider and pinning him into the seat.
The Rocko-Plane, now unbalanced by the loss of two cages, and suffering damage from the impact, tottered forward. Again, the frantic passengers’ frenzied movements sent the ride past the tipping point. It fell forward in slow motion. Dust, metal and blood sprayed up from the decimated ride. Chunks of metal flew through the fairgrounds, taking out whatever they hit.
The top cage hit the carousel. It crashed through the top and into the carousel animals. The carousel bucked and jerked as its motor caught fire and smoke began to pour into the air. A piece of fiberglass animal flew off and collided with the bumper cars. A metal pole from the carousel sheared off and was driven into a group of people running from the disaster.
The pole hit one man in the head, sending him sprawling. He fell on a gate and toppled over onto the side nearest a ride. The pole changed trajectory and hit the small roller coaster meant for children. The ride had already been stopped by the emergency button, but the pole hit a supporting beam of the track. The track collapsed and the cars rolled off onto the ground, collapsing the fence that barricaded it from onlookers.
The Ferris wheel took a direct hit from the swing-set ride. A chain wrapped over one of the spokes as the seat and rider crashed into the spoke below. The gondola style seat swung viciously from side to side. The passengers were holding on for dear life as the ride operator tried desperately to get the ride emptied.
The passengers were at the mercy of the swinging gondola. They shrieked and cried. The operator moved the ride, trying to get to that gondola. As it came down, the violent swinging didn’t cease. The car rammed the operator and the operator’s controls. The Ferris wheel began spinning again, faster, turning in its circular route with more speed than it had ever experienced before. Several of the gondolas began to swing wildly. Another operator rushed over to stop the ride. He shouted for the passengers to stop moving. They couldn’t hear him over their own terrified screams. The gondolas whizzed past him as he hit the emergency stop. Nothing happened. The other emergency stop was on the backside of the ride. He dashed from the platform, dodging flying debris and was hit by the fence as the roller coaster cars slid from their tracks. The fence and cars pinned his legs.
Helplessly, he watched as the weakened arm of the Ferris wheel buckled under the wild swing of the gondolas and increased speed of the ride. The frame buckled, then cracked with a deafening boom. A few more feet and the frame gave out, one side breaking, wrenching the bolts from the supporting struts. The gondola at the top flipped sideways, throwing its passengers into the path of the other seats. They smashed into them with brutalizing force. Then the gondola fell. The entire Ferris wheel collapsed in on itself. The motor shut off as the last car fell onto the emergency stop button on the rear of the ride.
It took forty-five minutes for the carnage to stop. When it was over, almost every ride had been damaged and the larger thrill rides were ruined wrecks that had wreaked havoc all across the fairgrounds. Not a single one of them stood.
Inhuman screams had replaced the grinding, whirring, screeching machine noises. Spots on the ground had become saturated with blood and other fluids and squelched beneath the feet of the emergency personnel. They searched for survivors, both on the fairgrounds and in the grandstand.
Most of the uninjured were in such a state of shock, they only made small noises or sobbed. Their eyes looked hollow. Their skin had lost its color, making them look grey and ashen, like zombies. They moved like cattle, allowing themselves to be herded away from the devastation.
The emergency personnel and a few bystanders that were not shell-shocked, searched the rubble for survivors. They followed the sound of screams. Some of them had pieces of metal jutting out of them. Others had limbs at odd angles or were missing limbs altogether. Some had been burned by the fires that had erupted. The attempts of rescuers to free some of the trapped did more harm than good.
The dead were even worse. Their bodies were broken and lifeless among the carnage. Most of them were unrecognizable as being human.
A fireman grabbed an arm and it broke off the man he was trying to rescue. He held the arm for a moment before turning his head and vomiting. Several other rescuers were having similar problems.
In the back of all their minds was the question of how a small, county fair in Missouri had ended up a killing field, soaked with blood and covered with death.