Miami Herald (Sunday)

COLLAPSE VICTIMS’ LAST MOMENTS

Love. Friendship. Heroism. Faith. Recalling the 98 victims’ final moments, and a few who miraculous­ly survived.

- BY LINDA ROBERTSON lrobertson@miamiheral­d.com

At 5:15 a.m. June 23, a baby girl was born.

Her grandmothe­r rejoiced while watching the sun rise over the ocean from her 11th-floor balcony at Champlain Towers South in Surfside. She could hardly contain her anticipati­on for a ceremony to be held the following day, when the newborn would be named Ita Ainsworth in her honor.

Ainsworth, 66, was to meet the baby at the hospital on that muggy Wednesday, but she was given incorrect visiting hours and missed her chance. So her son, Dovy Ainsworth, connected grandmothe­r and granddaugh­ter on a Facetime call.

“I tickled the baby, and my mom talked to her, and they had quite a moment,” Dovy said.

Ingrid Ainsworth, who went by her Hebrew name Ita and her nickname Itty, laughed and cried at the sight of her 25th grandchild.

“Hi, beautiful. I’m your bubby! I’m your grandmothe­r!” she exclaimed. “Your bubby can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

But Ainsworth never got to hold her namesake.

Little Ita will know her grandmothe­r only through stories and photograph­s.

Ainsworth and her husband, Tzvi Ainsworth, 68, were killed when their beachfront condominiu­m building smashed to the ground at 1:22 a.m.

Thursday, June 24.

All told, 98 people died in the collapse of Champlain Towers South, the deadliest catastroph­ic failure of an occupied residentia­l building in modern U.S. history. In videos of the sudden implosion, the condo looks like it was hit by an earthquake or detonated by dynamite as its 13 floors pancake on top of one another.

Dozens fled from the section of the building that remained standing, but only seven people caught in the wing that collapsed got out alive.

‘BETRAYED BY THEIR OWN HOME’

The victims had little chance of survival in a tower that was a ticking time bomb for 40 years, since it was erected during Miami’s early-1980s building boom with critical design and constructi­on flaws. Salty air and spray seeped into spindly, cracked support columns, accelerati­ng corrosion and “concrete cancer.”

Why the building fell — what triggered the cascade of calamity that began as the swimming pool deck slab cratered into the undergroun­d parking garage, followed seven minutes later by the collapse of 84 units in the central and eastern sections — is the subject of an investigat­ion by forensic engineers reassembli­ng chunks of rubble at a Doral site referred to as “the boneyard.”

Why those 98 people, ranging in age from 1 to 92 years old, were killed in a 25-million-pound avalanche of steel, furniture, appliances, sinks, ceilings, computers, shoes and heirlooms is eternally unanswerab­le. Tragedy doesn’t explain itself.

What can be reconstruc­ted is how victims and survivors came to be in Champlain South on that night, most asleep inside their piece of paradise, whether placed there by routine, delivered by fate, carried by sorrow or drawn by love.

“What hurts the most is that these people died in their home, in what is supposed to be their safe space,” said Sergio Lozano, 55, whose parents died in the collapse. “They were betrayed by their own home. We recognize the warning signs now, but they never saw it coming.”

A stark pad of gray concrete and a sludge-filled pool soon to be sold at auction are all that remains after the intact part of the tower was demolished on July 4 for fear that it would be blown over by Tropical Storm Elsa. It’s a hole in the soul of Surfside, population 5,651, which had preserved its small-town, retro character by resisting the sky-high zoning choices of neighborin­g Miami Beach.

Known as the “tower of the abuelas” for the predominan­ce of Cuban Jewish grandmothe­rs and their Shabbat feasts, it had diversifie­d as more families with children moved in. The haven for a multilingu­al mix of retirees, snowbirds and New Yorkers seeking sunshine was also a secondhome investment for

South Americans.

But harmony frayed as owners confronted the building’s 40-year safety recertific­ation. Poor maintenanc­e had long been a source of friction. A 2018 engineerin­g report citing “major structural damage” and “abundant cracking” and inadequate drainage fueled more distrust of the condo associatio­n board, more complaints about high fees and assessment­s, more delays of repairs.

Ugly disputes were put aside with new leadership and the decision to finally go forward with a $16.2 million renovation. On that Wednesday, owners received a financial update. Special assessment­s of $80,000 to $336,000 for each of the 136 units were due June 30.

Optimism about the upgrade pervaded the aging tower at 8777 Collins Ave. Neighbors greeted each other as they walked on the beach or took a dip in the ocean. Relatives who flew into Miami for a visit shared cafe con leche on balconies. Grandparen­ts made plans with grandchild­ren. Caressed by the sea air, they never imagined that it was taking its last licks at Champlain South, their beloved Surfside sandcastle.

Antonio Lozano had a follow-up appointmen­t for emergency hernia surgery on Wednesday. Lozano, 82, who lived in unit 903 with wife Gladys, 80, went to Dr. Henry Wodnicki’s office with son Sergio, who adored his parents and had become their caretaker. He even moved into Champlain South to be closer to them but then moved last year to Champlain East because he got two dogs, and only service dogs were allowed at South.

Still, Sergio could keep an eye on his parents’ condo from his own. In fact, they waved to each other from their balconies.

“It gave me great comfort to see my mom cooking in her kitchen and my dad sitting in his recliner,” Sergio said. “It was so endearing to see them together.”

Dr. Wodnicki told Antonio Lozano he could resume his normal activities, including happy hour drinks of Chivas.

They talked about ongoing roof work at Champlain South. Dr. Wodnicki lived there, too, and his wife, Jean, was the new board president who sent owners a letter in the spring summarizin­g the necessity of extensive renovation­s: “We have

 ?? PEDRO PORTAL pportal@miamiheral­d.com ?? Sheva Ainsworth and her husband, Dovy Ainsworth, with their 3-month-old daughter, Ita. The baby was named after her grandmothe­r, Ingrid, who went by her Hebrew name Ita and her nickname ‘Itty.’ Ita was born on June 23, the day before the Champlain Towers South condo collapsed in Surfside. Her grandmothe­r was supposed to attend a naming ceremony for her on June 24, but she and her husband, Tzvi Ainsworth, Dovy’s parents, died in the collapse.
PEDRO PORTAL pportal@miamiheral­d.com Sheva Ainsworth and her husband, Dovy Ainsworth, with their 3-month-old daughter, Ita. The baby was named after her grandmothe­r, Ingrid, who went by her Hebrew name Ita and her nickname ‘Itty.’ Ita was born on June 23, the day before the Champlain Towers South condo collapsed in Surfside. Her grandmothe­r was supposed to attend a naming ceremony for her on June 24, but she and her husband, Tzvi Ainsworth, Dovy’s parents, died in the collapse.
 ??  ?? Dovy Ainsworth, center, with his parents, Tzvi Ainsworth, left, and Ingrid ‘Itty’ Ainsworth, who had moved from Australia to be near their children..
Dovy Ainsworth, center, with his parents, Tzvi Ainsworth, left, and Ingrid ‘Itty’ Ainsworth, who had moved from Australia to be near their children..
 ?? AMANDA ANDRADE-RHOADES ?? Sergio Lozano lived two buildings down from his parents, Antonio and Gladys Lozano, who died in the collapse.
AMANDA ANDRADE-RHOADES Sergio Lozano lived two buildings down from his parents, Antonio and Gladys Lozano, who died in the collapse.

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