The room was swirling with music and laughter, when the first call came in, catching my husband and I mid-dance. Without knowing why we were being called  away from a party we’d looked forward to for weeks,  we rushed to my office on the 19th floor of Greenway Plaza’s Coastal Tower in Houston, Texas—home of the now-defunct Coastal Oil & Gas. It was December 10, 1990.

There is something unsettlingly eerie about an empty skyscraper at night. As instructed, we grabbed notepads, pens, tape recorders and cameras. Without valid cause, security might deem any and all to simply be loot. I uneasily recalled greeting the security guards with a bright Merry Christmas. The phone rang again. My boss, “Get to Ellington Air Field as fast as you can, and don’t tell anyone.”

On a good day, it’s about 35 minutes from Greenway Plaza to Ellington Field: We made it in 20. Even Houston freeways are bare at 1:00 a.m. I was shaking badly: I knew it was nerves. Houston in December is hardly a winter wonderland. I had no idea what was happening, I sensed we were embarking on the adventure of a lifetime. I wasn’t wrong.

To be continued…

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