The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Mexican town learns its historic hall can be rebuilt
Beloved structure damaged in major earthquake.
JOJUTLA, MEXICO — The historic town hall has long been beloved by the people of Jojutla. And the sight of it after the Sept. 19 earthquake — its clock tower toppled, its bells exposed to the sky, huge gaping holes in its brick walls — led many to fear the worst.
It was as if the soul of Jojutla, a village in the state of Morelos two hours south of Mexico City, had been fatally wounded.
After all, the town hall — built a century and a half ago — is the heart of the tourist experience here. A place that marked the annual Independence Day celebrations with aplomb, filled with singing, mariachi music, food, folkloric dancing, a concert, the crowning of a beauty queen.
Just days before the magnitude 7.1 earthquake hit, the town hall was lighted with neon signs in the national green, white and red that said “1810 Viva Mexico 2017,” a reference to the year Mexico declared its independence from Spain.
A packed crowd filled the square, or zocalo, and looked up to see the mayor on the town hall balcony — close to the clock that would crumble in the earthquake — where he waved the national flag and led chants of “Viva Mexico!”
So there was one question that seemed to be on the townspeople’s minds, including one 24-year-old resident, Angel Carlos, who approached a visitor wearing a hard hat and asked: Do you think the building can be saved?
It was a question a structural engineer could answer.
Last Thursday, two of them from California — California seismic safety commissioner
Kit Miyamoto and FEMA National Advisory Council member and earthquake engineer Anna Lang — came into Jojutla from Mexico City to find out what they could learn and lend a hand, if needed.
Locals welcomed them. They told locals to move cars and people away from certain areas of the building — remaining brick walls from the upper story could still collapse on people below.
“You see, sometimes, aftershocks can be much bigger than the first shock,” Miyamoto explained through an interpreter. “So if I was you, I would put yellow tape from here —”
“No, no, no,” Lang interrupted. “Farther,” she said. The people needed to be held farther back.
Cars needed to move too. “Because, essentially, all the things are very unstable,” Miyamoto said. “That could come down just like that in aftershocks . ... I would not park there.”
Then, inside they went, past the grand arches into a darkened hallway of the town hall.
“Don’t worry, it won’t fall on us,” Lang said to a colleague. “But I will put my whistle on” — just in case an aftershock hit and they had
to call for help.
Miyamoto and Lang entered the courtyard — filled with arches and a fountain. “Man, this is a beautiful building,” Miyamoto said.
“Oh, wow. That’s gorgeous,” Lang said. “We need to save it.”
But could they? Just a few yards to the east, entire blocks had buildings that were compromised. At least 17 people died in Jojutla, including three killed when they ran out of the town hall, only to be crushed by falling bricks that once housed the building’s iconic clock and bells.
Miyamoto and Lang looked about and saw, to their trained eyes, promising signs. The ground floor appeared to withstand the shaking well.
Later, outside the town hall, they announced the verdict to local officials.
“This can be rebuilt,” Miyamoto said.
A local historian, Guillermo Manon Cerrillo, gulped a quick breath.
As if he couldn’t believe what he heard, he asked slowly, “Do you think, in your opinion, it can be reconstructed?”
“Of course,” Miyamoto said.