Jerry’s silence on facility collapse is troubling
Published 10:57 pm Sunday, May 2, 2010
FORT WORTH, Texas — Jerry, since you never asked after I escaped when that structurally insufficient practice facility at Valley Ranch collapsed, now is a good time to tell you.
I’m fine.
If it were only me, though, I could live with it.
But there were a lot of good people who do a lot for the Dallas Cowboys who suffered real injuries and emotional trauma, and no one asked them about their well-being, either.
It’s the only the second time in my life where I really thought I could die.
The only physical evidence for me were two large marks on the back of my shirt from where a player pushed me out of the way to get through the door. Those came out in the wash. The memories and, specifically, the fear, don’t.
When I was inside that bubble one year ago and the west wall violently shook before the wind ripped it from the ground and it toppled toward me, it created a sound that I still hear every time there is a storm.
As I tried to get through the door, I accepted that a projectile was going to hit me, because I was sure this was a tornado.
The memory of sprinting 50 yards away from the facility only to reach a locked training room door isn’t pleasant, either. There were people inside, yet no one opened the door. Inside my own head I screamed, “Let me in!,” but for some stupid reason I ran another 50 yards in the storm before reaching guaranteed safety.
That’s what happened to me, but it’s nothing compared to scout Rich Behm, who was paralyzed from the waist down. I can’t imagine that. I ache every time I see special teams coach Joe DeCamillis, who suffered a broken back. Either one of them easily could have been me.
This is where I have a hard time with “everything happens for a reason.” There is no reason for something like this, because it should never have happened.
There are others aside from Behm and DeCamillis, however, who suffered real injuries, such as broken bones, sprains, bruises, concussions, etc. There are people who couldn’t sleep well for a long time after this.
These people work for the Cowboys, and, according to sources close to the team, none of them will say a word other than to file an insurance claim because they don’t want to threaten their job security.
Or pull up the carpet under which that this organization has tried so hard to sweep the ordeal under. DeCamillis has filed a lawsuit because he knows another team will hire him.
One year after the Cowboys’ practice facility collapse, I have to believe Jerry Jones is upset that this happened.
Cowboys PR chief Rich Dalrymple saids the team has no comment.
At first, I accepted the Cowboys’ collective silence because the organization was being “sensitive” to those who really suffered. But their silence has zero to do with sensitivity and everything to do with zeroes.
This is another problem with our litigious world. Even saying “I’m sorry for what happened to you” or “That must have been terrifying” may imply the type of culpability that results in a six- or seven-figure loss. I get that. It’s just disappointing, and another harsh reality about the American workplace.
Legal and “defensible” trump all.
One year ago Mother Nature sent us a message about where we all stand. That message is scary. Today, the Cowboys sent a message where we stand, too. That message is disappointing.
I don’t know what I expected in the first few days after that thing collapsed. I do know it should have been more than silence.
Writing this won’t change a thing. I have no illusions that Jerry will call some of his employees to express whatever. No different than I have any illusions that the memories from this nightmare will go away.
