Shelter
S MUSIC BLARED and excited twenty-somethings streamed around me, I stood flipping through the conference booklet, trying to find my first talk. I had just arrived at South by Southwest, and all the other People in Tech seemed to know where to go. It was somewhere upstairs, but I was on the wrong floor, and already late. I ducked into a stairwell to skip the elevator line.
***
It had been a punishing year. The strain of health problems, community upheaval, family pressures, and a challenging new job had taken a heavy toll. I was excited about the event, but beneath my practiced “Hi, I’m Peter, what brings you to SXSW?” I imagined the end of the day, when I could ride the elevator to my hotel room, close the door behind me, take a slow shower, and sleep.
But between ear pain from the flight’s cabin pressure and a nasty cold, it hadn’t turned out that way. I didn’t sleep well, and found myself drained before summoning what was left of my extroversion to brave the convention crowds.
***
The heavy metal door slammed shut with a trailing echo as my eyes adjusted to the sudden darkness. Then, eerie silence.
I found myself in a huge, empty space, a staircase circling immense columns towering over me. High above, a skylight illuminated the concrete and stone like an ancient temple.
I stayed for a while, slowly climbing the stairs, listening to the sounds of my footsteps. What was this place, and where was everyone? Then on the wall I read a sign: “Severe Weather Shelter Area” — and I understood.
It was a gift.
I took a deep breath, letting the stillness wash over me. My shoulders relaxed.
