Don't shoot me, I only want my luggage.

We arrived in Minneapolis mid-afternoon Sunday after an over 14 hour long bus ride from Pittsburgh. I'll admit right now that I was a little crazy after being in the bus that long, but so was everyone else. I sincerely thanked our bus driver Lance for getting us there safely and enduring the trip without sleeping - at least he told me he didn't sleep.

My desire to be back home grows in direct proportion to a mounting abhorrence of hotel rooms, but In this case after such a long ride, I was looking forward to a shower and some alone time. It took two trips to get all my stuff, up to the room. "Yeah, I've made it," I thought and scattered my things about to make it feel like home. I purposefully left the inviting pillow-topped bed clear so I could take a nap after my shower. Just as I kicked off my shoes there was a loud banging at the door.

"Maybe they'll go away" I thought, but the banging grew louder and seemed to have a predictable urgency. I opened the door to be greeted by a hotel security officer who told me there was an emergency and I needed to grab what I could and leave. I asked if it was a fire and learned that no, there was a guy with a gun on the floor. OK, I'm listening now. I threw on my backpack and was escorted down the hall.

As we approached the elevator I saw several policemen, guns drawn, talking through a hotel room door. An agitated male voice was shouting back at them. The elevator doors closed and silenced the scene. This, I reckoned, was going to be a long day.

As other bewildered guests gathered in the lobby we realized there was no way for the hotel to predict when this would be over. A swat team, complete with helmets and assault rifles entered the building. This was going to be a really long day.

David Hudson appeared from the elevators and since he was on the 11th floor he had no idea anything was wrong. He invited me up to his room to hang out. Hussain joined us later and after a couple of hours passed I decided to check in at the front desk for a progress report. The clerk said you won't be able to go back to the room but it would be OK to go back to the 6th floor and someone would help me move my luggage.

Hussain offered to go with me since I had three instruments plus luggage to carry. We hopped on the elevators and pushed the number 6. When the door opened we immediately knew things weren't back to normal. It was pitch black. Out of the blackness stepped an unhappy officer with an assault rifle who demanded to know what we thought we were doing there. His mood didn't improve when I told him I 'thought' we were going to get my luggage. I explained we were sent there by the front desk. This didn't make him any happier and he escorted us to the lobby to make sure no one else surprised them. It was a little tense when we reached the desk and the clerk demanded I tell him who it was who said I could go get my stuff. I explained that I hadn't thought it necessary to take names, but I'm quite sure I didn't make it up just for a little excitement!

I asked if there was any way I could at least get a room in which I could take a shower. I was told there were others in front of me and I'd have to come back. I found out where the rest of the group, meaning those who'd showered and changed clothes, were having a superbowl party. I don't think I've mentioned up to this point that I was still wearing the pajamas I had on from the night before and that my coat was up in the barricaded room so I really couldn't go anywhere.

After a while of eating hors d'oeuvres in my pajamas I was given a new room on the 10th floor. As soon as I opened the door I was hit with the strong smell of smoke. There sat an ashtray on the desk. Yes, this was a smoking room and it had been heavily used. I knew I wouldn't stay there but I quickly took a shower and put back on my pajamas for the trip back to the desk. By now about 4 hours had passed.

It didn't take long this time to get changed to a non smoking room. So up to my new room on the 9th floor I went and kicked off my shoes. I was thirsty and my bottled water was with my stuff on the 6th floor so I called David to see if he would loan me a bottle of water. Over to his room I ran in sock feet, got the water and returned to my room to discover that my key card didn't work. It was back down to the lobby for me, this time in sock feet and pajamas.

Around 9:30 I got a call from the front desk and was going to be escorted back to the 6th floor as the drama had ended peacefully. It didn't look so peaceful as we exited the elevator through a pile of broken glass. It seems the swat patrol had broken out all the emergency lights so they could use their night vision goggles, which I guess they don't get to try out very often.

Finally, around 10pm, I settled into my room for a good night's sleep.

On Monday morning as I was preparing to go spend the day doing laundry at Bradley Joseph's house, I heard a report on Minnesota Public Radio. The report said, and I'm not making this up, that a man was in custody after barricading himself in a room in the Marquette Hotel threatening to shoot someone. He was, according to the report, upset about the service.



Check pictures I took with Bradley on a frozen lake by using the photographs link. ¶ 2:35 PM