Hyatt Regency walkway collapse

The Hyatt Regency walkway collapse took place at the Hyatt Regency Kansas City hotel in
Kansas City, Missouri, on July 17, 1981. Two walkways, one directly above the other, collapsed
onto a tea dance being held in the hotel's lobby. The falling walkways killed 114 and injured
216.[2] It was the deadliest structural collapse in U.S. history[3] until the collapse of the World
Trade Center towers 20 years later.

Contents
1 Background
2 Collapse
3 Investigation
4 Aftermath
4.1 Memorial
5 See also
6 References
7 Further reading
8 External links
Background
The construction of the 40-story Hyatt Regency Kansas City began in May 1978. After delays
and setbacks, including an incident in which 2,700 square feet (250 m2) of the roof collapsed,
the hotel officially opened on July 1, 1980.

One of the defining features of the hotel was its lobby, which incorporated a multistory atrium
spanned by elevated walkways suspended from the ceiling. These steel, glass, and concrete
crossings connected the second, third, and fourth floors between the north and south wings.
The walkways were approximately 120 ft (37 m) long[4] and weighed approximately 64,000 lb
(29,000 kg).[5] The fourth-level walkway was directly above the second-level walkway.

Collapse
View of the lobby floor, during the first day of the investigation
The landing of the concrete 4th floor walkway, atop the crowded 2nd floor walkway
Aftermath of the walkway collapse
On the evening of Friday, July 17, 1981, approximately 1,600 people gathered in the atrium for
a tea dance.[6] At 7:05 p.m. local time (00:05 UTC; July 18) the second-level walkway held
approximately 40 people with more on the third and an additional 16 to 20 on the fourth
level.[4] The fourth-floor bridge was suspended directly over the second-floor bridge, with the
third-floor walkway offset several meters from the others.

Popping noises were heard moments before the fourth-floor walkway dropped several inches,
paused, then fell completely onto the second-floor walkway. Then both walkways fell to the
lobby floor. There were 114 deaths (almost all at the scene) and 219 injuries.[7]
They said 'take what you want'. I don't know if all those people got their equipment back. But
no one has ever asked for an accounting and no one has ever submitted a bill.
Deputy Fire Chief Arnett Williams[8]
The rescue operation lasted fourteen hours.[9] Survivors were buried beneath steel, concrete,
and glass which the fire department's jacks could move. In response to an appeal, volunteers
brought jacks, torches, compressors, jackhammers, concrete saws, and generators from
construction companies and suppliers.[8] Cranes were brought, their booms forced through
the lobby windows to bring them into position to lift debris.[10] Joseph Waeckerle, former
chief of Kansas City's emergency medical system, directed the effort, as his successor was out
of town.[2] The dead were taken to a ground floor exhibition area as a makeshift morgue,[11]
and the hotel's driveway and front lawn were used as a triage area.[12] Those who could walk
were instructed to leave the hotel to simplify the rescue effort; those mortally injured were
given morphine.[7][13] Often, rescuers had to dismember bodies to reach survivors among the
wreckage.[7] One victim's crushed leg was amputated by a surgeon using a chainsaw.[14]

Water from the hotel's ruptured sprinkler system flooded the lobby and put trapped survivors
at risk of drowning; Mark Williams, who spent more than nine hours pinned underneath the
lower skywalk with both legs dislocated from their sockets, nearly drowned before the water
was shut off. Visibility was poor because of dust and because power had been cut to prevent
fires.[15][10]

Twenty-nine people were rescued from the rubble.[16]

Investigation
A diagram showing the difference between the design and construction of the walkway
support system. According to the diagram, in the actual construction, there was one more nut.
view of a cross-section of the 4th floor support beam which fell, together with the 2nd floor
support rod passing through its left and right halves vertically.
Investigators found that changes to the design of the walkway's steel tie rods were the cause
of its failure.
Three days after the disaster, Wayne G. Lischka,[17] an architectural engineer hired by The
Kansas City Star newspaper, discovered a significant change to the original design of the
walkways. Reportage of the event later earned the Star and its associated publication the
Kansas City Times a Pulitzer Prize for local news reporting in 1982.[18] Radio station KJLA
would later earn a National Associated Press award for its reporting on the night of the
disaster.

The two walkways were suspended from a set of 1.25-inch-diameter (32 mm) steel tie
rods,[19] with the second-floor walkway hanging directly under the fourth-floor walkway. The
fourth-floor walkway platform was supported on three cross-beams suspended by steel rods
retained by nuts. The cross-beams were box girders made from C-channel strips welded
together lengthwise, with a hollow space between them. The original design by Jack D. Gillum
and Associates specified three pairs of rods running from the second floor to the ceiling. Even
this original design supported only 60% of the minimum load required by Kansas City building
codes.[20]
Havens Steel Company, manufacturer of the rods, objected that the whole of the rod below
the fourth floor would have to be screw threaded in order to screw on the nuts to hold the
fourth-floor walkway in place; in addition these threads would be subject to damage as the
fourth-floor structure, including the threaded rods, was hoisted into place. Havens therefore
proposed that two separate—and offset—sets of rods would be used: the first set suspending
the fourth-floor walkway from the ceiling, and the second set suspending the second-floor
walkway from the fourth-floor walkway.[21]

In the original design, the beams of the fourth-floor walkway had to support only the weight of
the fourth-floor walkway, with the weight of the second-floor walkway supported completely
by the rods. In the revised design, however, the fourth-floor beams supported both the fourth-
floor walkway and the second-floor walkway hanging from it, but in fact were strong enough
only for 30% of that load.[20]

The serious flaws of the revised design were compounded by the fact that both designs placed
the bolts directly through a welded joint connecting two C-channels, the weakest structural
point in the box beams. The original design was for the welds to be on the sides of the box
beams, rather than on the top and bottom. Photographs of the wreckage show excessive
deformations of the cross-section.[22] During the failure, the box beams split along the weld
and the nut supporting them slipped through the resulting gap between the two C-channels
which had been welded together, which was consistent with reports that the upper walkway
at first fell several inches, after which the nut was held only by the upper side of the box
beams; then the upper side of the box beams failed as well, allowing the entire walkway to fall.

Investigators concluded that the basic problem was a lack of proper communication between
Jack D. Gillum and Associates and Havens Steel. In particular, the drawings prepared by Jack D.
Gillum and Associates were only preliminary sketches but were interpreted by Havens as
finalized drawings. Jack D. Gillum and Associates failed to review the initial design thoroughly,
and accepted Havens' proposed plan without performing basic calculations or viewing
sketches that would have revealed its serious intrinsic flaws — in particular, the doubling of
the load on the fourth-floor beams.[20] It was later revealed that when Havens called Jack D.
Gillum and Associates to propose the new design, the engineer they spoke with simply
approved the changes over the phone.[23]

Aftermath
The engineers employed by Jack D. Gillum and Associates who had "approved" the final
drawings were found culpable of gross negligence, misconduct, and unprofessional conduct in
the practice of engineering by the Missouri Board of Architects, Professional Engineers, and
Land Surveyors. Though they were acquitted of all crimes that they were initially charged with,
the company of Jack D. Gillum and Associates all lost their respective engineering licenses in
the states of Missouri, Kansas, and Texas and their membership with the American Society of
Civil Engineers (ASCE).[22][20][23]
At least $140 million (equivalent to $386 million today) was awarded to victims and their
families in both judgments and settlements in subsequent civil lawsuits; a large amount of this
money was from Crown Center Corporation, a wholly owned subsidiary of Hallmark Cards
which was the owner of the hotel real estate. As is the practice of many hoteliers, Hyatt
operated the hotel for a fee as a management company, and did not own the building. Life and
health insurance companies are likely to have absorbed even larger uncompensated losses in
policy payouts.[24][25]

The Hyatt collapse remains a classic model for the study of engineering ethics and errors, as
well as disaster management.[26] As an engineer of record for the Hyatt project, Jack D. Gillum
(1928–2012)[27] occasionally shared his experiences at engineering conferences in the hope of
preventing future mistakes.[23]

The hotel's lobby was rebuilt with only one crossing, on the second floor, supported from
beneath by columns.

Several rescuers suffered considerable stress due to their experience, and later relied upon
each other in an informal support group.[9] Jackhammer operator "Country" Bill Allman died
by suicide.[28]

The hotel was renamed the Hyatt Regency Crown Center in 1987, and again the Sheraton
Kansas City at Crown Center in 2011. It has been renovated numerous times since, though the
lobby retains the same layout and design. The hotel's owner announced a $13 million
renovation as part of its Sheraton rebranding which completed in 2012.