Pause for Purpose

Mark K October 22nd, 2008

I had never really been drawn before to go the top of the Eiffel Tower.  Maybe it was because of my fear of heights, maybe because it was thronged with tourists, or perhaps just not wanting to pay the steep admission price. Not long before I came here, my writer friend Carolyn read an intriguing story she had written about her visit to Paris as a college student.  She talked about how she boldly started up the stairs instead of taking the elevator, but part way up started to have strange thoughts about how there was nothing to keep her from climbing the railing and jumping, if she so chose.  That story made me curious about how I would react to my fear of heights.  I arrived early and was one of the first people in line.  I debated about whether to take the elevator or stairs and decided that I would take the elevator up and if I had the courage, would take the stairs on the way down.  I figured that if my fear got the best of me, I could always take the elevator down. The elevator travels up on of the piers at an angle until it reaches the first level, at 200 feet, then continues to another platform at 400 feet. I was amazed how high it was and was already feeling nervous – I knew I wasn’t even half way to the top. From there, you only have one choice – the elevator.  You transfer to a smallish elevator that goes straight up through the narrowing tower.  This was the part I wasn’t prepared for. Suddenly, you’re not surrounded by layers and girders – there’s very little separating you from thin air – and once the elevator starts up, you’re committed – no turning back now.  There’s a little window in the ceiling and you can see just how very, very far you still have to go!I reached the top and the safety of a glassed in observation deck.  For some reason, I don’t really mind heights when there are windows – ones that can’t be opened.  There’s another level just above, that has a wire mesh instead of windows.  This was a challenge, and it took me a couple of tries until I could walk around and have my picture taken.The way down isn’t nearly as bad as the ground gets closer and closer.  The second level, where I had to decide whether to take the stairs, seemed pretty tame by now – I decided to give it a try.  The stairs seemed safe – they’re surrounded by girders and have a high fence, sometimes you’re totally enclosed with mesh over the top as well – you’d really have to work at falling off.  I was enjoying myself, taking my time.  That is, until I reached these guys on the first level. There was a giant crane reaching from the ground to the first level and workers were assembling what looked to be the supports for a construction elevator.  The crane would lift a piece into place and these three maniacs, perched on the edge of nothingness at the top, would bolt it into place.  Then they would climb to the top of that section and repeat the process.  I could stand next to them, not five feet away, safely on my side of the fence and take their pictures.There’s something interesting about my fear of heights.  Often, when I’m perched on the top of a tall building or bridge, there’s someone braver (almost anyone else in the world) next to me who wanders over casually to the ledge and leans over as if they’re gazing off their porch back home.  This scares me almost as much as if I were the one doing the leaning and gazing and I usually get a visceral pang in my stomach just about this time. I’ve seen pictures of a guy who, many years ago, dressed up in a costume that could only be described as an imitation of a flying squirrel – he was a tailor as I recall – and decided that he would try to fly from the top of the Eiffel tower.  Of course, things didn’t work out too well for him and when they did the autopsy they found that he had actually died of a heart attack before he hit the ground.  Now, that would be me – the heart attack part, not the “how can I use my tailoring skills in a more creative way” part. I’ve got to admire the guy, for trying to face his fears. Just the same, I think I’ll stick with the stairs. 

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