In an exclusive excerpt from the New Orleans issue of Thomas Beller’s Stranger’s Guide, the author examines the collapse of Hotel Rock Hard in the city in 2019, along with the unanswered questions and the subsequent cleanup.
The most unnerved were the menaces that were unseen. Floods, tornadoes, hurricanes: you can see that these threats get the most attention and it is necessary to constantly toggle between being aware of them and living obliviously. You can almost hear and see the gears of municipal life on a small enough scale here, yet a friend who grew up in America remarked that New Orleans is perched at the mouth of a great river and at the edge of the continent.
Every now and then, a particular scent wafts through New Orleans, an odor that is distinctly toxic even if it is faint. This usually occurs late at night. When I go out to bring the trash to the bin on a midnight errand, I would open my front door and there it would be: an invisible, airborne poisonous occurrence. Occasionally, you would wake up to this smell and find yourself standing at the top of your front steps in the gentle morning breeze, inhaling it, contemplating whether you could become accustomed to it, or even if you should. It’s a chemical odor, and its source remains unknown.
My awareness of the invisible dangers in New Orleans has been heightened. Unfortunately, it is common practice in New Orleans for parents of two young children, like myself, to be alarmed by the visible dusting of emulsified lead paint, including in our house and its surroundings, due to the preparation work of our neighbor who was sanding their old house. The most acute awareness of these unseen threats came when our neighbor’s house, which was being painted, gave off visible lead dust. The state legislature’s attitude towards industrial pollution could be described as lax, as the city is surrounded by factories and refineries that produce toxins. Both specific sources, such as a plant across the river, and generic sources contribute to this pollution. Everyone I’ve talked to believes that it emanates from the plant across the river.
“The Illustrated London News editorialized that during that summer, New Orleans was constructed on a location that only the extreme desire for commercial gain could have enticed people to inhabit. In the summer of 1853, when a yellow fever outbreak resulted in the death of 8,000 individuals, The New Orleans Courier attempted to alleviate the concerns of its readers by advising them, ‘Most importantly, avoid letting your imagination be frightened.'”
On October 12, 2019, at 9 a.M., The well-known Hard Rock Collapse occurred. However, the 18-story unfinished structure, which was supposed to be the Hard Rock Hotel, became the center of attention when the entire intersection and the theater across the street were closed. The theater remained dark for almost two years, from 2019 to 2021. But just this past spring, Bob Dylan played there. The newly restored Saenger Theater, one of the city’s prized jewels, is now hosting shows once again. Pedestrian and auto traffic has resumed, but the street is still not fully operational. However, it is expected to return to normal by the spring of 2022, at the corner of Canal Street and Rampart Street.
When Kailas, the patriarch of the family, caught sight of the camera through the glass doors of his office, he quickly darted inside, running away from the scene. His hasty retreat symbolized the prevailing belief among almost everyone in the aftermath of the disaster: there would be no consequences for those responsible. It resembled a scene from an old episode of 60 Minutes, with no interviews or confrontations taking place. The local WWLTV reporter, David Hammer, captured the outraged state of the city shortly after the collapse, as the contractor and developers behind the Citadel project, as well as the Kailas Mohan family, showcased their offices.
On the morning of October 12, 2019, the French Quarter of New Orleans, a renowned tourist spot in America, underwent a complete metamorphosis into the image of a skyscraper that had been severely damaged by a bomb and then carefully relocated from Beirut, Gaza, Mariupol, or any other war-ravaged area. Examining the building from various perspectives allowed one to witness a wreckage that cast a dark cloud over New Orleans for nearly two years.
The building, which had partially collapsed, took on a new and surprisingly contemporary dimension through its renowned cemeteries, consisting of above-ground mausoleums, making New Orleans distinct from any other American city. Initially, the precise whereabouts of these cemeteries amidst the debris were uncertain, but the remaining two were eventually discovered. Shortly thereafter, one of the deceased individuals was taken away. Tragically, three men lost their lives while working in the building.

In 1960, the initial lunch counter protests in Louisiana took place at the spot of a former Woolworth’s, where the structure was situated at the intersection of renowned Canal Street and North Rampart Street — which runs parallel to the expanse of the French Quarter. The sky was cloudy, opaque. It had slightly cooled on Saturday morning, October 12, October of 2019 started with unprecedented high temperatures for New Orleans.
Two enormous yellow cranes towered over the building, hoisting a swimming pool to the rooftop the day before. The higher levels remained a bare concrete structure, whereas the lower levels were covered in a vibrant purple exterior. The Hard Rock had now reached its maximum height of 18 stories.
Debris, steel girders, and dust fell from the sky as an uncovered steel elevator shaft, known as an external hoist, toppled over, resembling a drunken person losing balance. The floors collapsed on top of each other, with each layer sliding down onto the one below, and eventually, the upper levels of the hotel on Rampart Street crumbled with the force of a landslide. It is only when a building collapses that one realizes the praise it deserves for standing strong, just as it was constructed at 9 a.M.
By midday Saturday, two videos of the event were circulating online. One was shot from the vantage of a Canal Street streetcar.
Also unsettling is the alternative event that causes the collapse of a skyscraper, which seems to be propelled by something that occurred as a result of an explosion, even though it is important to note that there is a reason for it. Adjusting to this memory of mine is challenging, but it appears that the collapse is captured in the footage, showing faces and shoulders of other panicked riders trying to get out. Whoever is holding the phone after the dust cloud and debris come down can see the blur of faces and shoulders. We see a tourist pointing their phone out of the open window as the trolley approaches the hotel, which suddenly starts moving.
“Oh my goodness,” exclaims a male voice that intrudes into the silence of the car, signaling a mix of excitement, adrenaline, and horror. One can see several construction workers running out of the building and across the street towards Saenger. Everything is covered in a gray haze of dust that blends with the overcast sky, creating an atmosphere of anticipation, as if an explosion is about to happen. From the top of the building, a cloud of gray dust puffs out, reminiscent of the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. The historic Saenger Theater, meticulously restored from the 1920s, appears much smaller compared to the construction site on the left, while the elegant black street lamps line the long perspective of North Rampart Street, which stretches through the French Quarter. In the middle of the distance, a car sits in silence at a red light, creating a sense of stillness. Another video has become the Zapruder footage of this event, as it seems to have been scrubbed from the internet and can no longer be consulted.
Truman Capote wrote in “New Orleans, long have the streets been lonesome,” remarking that the violence of qualities usually acquired by innocent things and the atmosphere of Chirico’s empty hours serve as epigrammatic videos.
The occurrence and consequences of the Hard Rock Collapse, along with the entire incident, resemble a story from Grimm’s fairy tales. There is a resemblance to Little Red Riding Hood, particularly with the presence of the small red and white streetcar. The streetcar abruptly halts as the building starts collapsing, and upon closer examination of the video, it becomes apparent that the footage was captured from this very streetcar.
Until their elimination in August of 2020, they would be entombed in the Hard Rock Mausoleum for 10 months. The final individual, buried in the debris somewhere, could not be located. The second person was found and confirmed deceased by the end of the day. It was too precarious for humans. Canines and automatons were dispatched into the building to search for the remaining two individuals. By the end of the day, one had been extracted, lifeless, while his spouse, who had hurried to the scene pledging to wait as long as necessary, observed. Three individuals were trapped inside. The majority of the workers escaped. When the upper levels of the 18-story edifice began to crumble, there were 112 workers present at the Hard Rock Hotel construction site.
He had a wife and three children. He had been working in construction for 18 years in the United States, where he was an undocumented immigrant from Honduras named Joel Delmer Palma Ramirez. The workers were sent to nearby hospitals on Saturday evening. Once the dust cleared, the building looked like a collapsed concrete soufflé.
In order to accomplish it, we will locate another individual to perform the task who is not averse to it, even if he was informed again when he mentioned it. Don’t be concerned about it, he was repeatedly informed by his supervisor to carry on working and the problem he raised was addressed. The building that his laser leveler was indicating was not the windows but rather a section of the framing crew, which collapsed due to the passage of three months since Ramirez had been working on the Rock Hard site.
He was leaping down from one floor to another. The escape was filled with chaos. It started to crumble while he was on the 14th floor on Saturday morning. He sensed that something was amiss when he reached the 12th floor. He and his team were operating on the 8th to 14th floors.
Immediately after the accident, Jambalaya News, a Spanish-language news channel, arrived at the location and initiated live interviews with the workers, including Ramirez, on Facebook.
Ramirez, who was aware of safety concerns, was standing with a group of his coworkers, several supervisors out of earshot, speaking up about something he knew was wrong, the morning after the collapse.
Ramirez inquired about his fishing permit when a fish and wildlife official emerged from the grey vehicle beside him upon his arrival. The grey vehicle trailed him on the road as he drove and observed it. He went fishing in Bayou Sauvage, a serene section of marshy parkland halfway between his residence in Slidell and New Orleans, in an effort to relax after the incidents of the weekend. On Monday morning, he escorted his son, a citizen of the United States, to school. The day following the collapse, on Sunday, Ramirez visited the hospital due to back pain, migraines, and other symptoms of astonishment.
He provided a legitimate fishing permit.
According to Mary Yanik, the immigration attorney representing Ramirez, she told me that the official subsequently requested his driver’s license.
“I’m not driving,” Ramirez responded. “I am fishing.”Output: “I’m not operating a vehicle,” Ramirez replied. “I am engaging in fishing.”
Without a driver’s license? Maybe for angling, replied the authority figure, and he issued Ramirez a citation. I will be documenting this for you.
Ramirez was taken into custody. Shortly thereafter, two vehicles from Customs and Border Protection appeared. Another vehicle with a Fish and Wildlife officer arrived.
Yanik informed me, “This region is considered rural.” The community does not experience random law enforcement from Customs and Border Protection since there are no ports, airports, or borders. Yanik questioned, “What was the reason for the presence of the Border Patrol so close to this Slidell bayou?”
Ramirez, who was in ICE custody, argued that he should not be deported until the investigation into the collapse at Rock Hard was completed. He was interviewed three times by investigators from the Occupational Safety and Health Administration (OSHA) about his experience at Hard Rock. After that, he was moved to an ICE facility in Alexandria, LA, where Yanik said he would be deported. When I first spoke to Yanik, he was in ICE custody and mentioned that the ticket from Wildlife and Fish was written for Ramirez.
It is important to recognize that this tragedy will also be recognized by his employers. Yanik said, “I am hopeful that he has the information about the collapsed structure and the working conditions in the building before it happened.” If ICE is trying to deport him, then it is possible that many workers are afraid to speak out, especially in an environment where many people are afraid to speak out.
The hope was futile. Ramirez, who is married and has three children, was expelled on November 29, 2019.
She said, “There is a reason to think this was retaliatory, there is a reason to think this was retaliatory,” she said. She shared data with me indicating that the government spends 11 times more on enforcing immigration standards, indicating that it does enforce labor standards. She was depleted and exasperated by the larger implications of the Rock Hard Collapse and the specifics of Ramirez’s case. Yanik specializes in immigration retaliation against workers.
The brand new look of something that was immediately became a pastime for hundreds of people to stare and stand at from the street, even though it had been ruined and exposed as a twisted and torn forest of metal. The ceilings and walls within were hidden and normally made of structural material, but they had been completely pancaked as the top floors collapsed onto the middle floors. The wreckage in the morning was as disturbing as a bomb had been dropped on it.
The central location of the hotel, on the edge of both the central business district and the French Quarter, meant that those commuting to work would experience disruptions to public transportation. An evacuation zone was created, closing off the blocks around the hotel. It seemed plausible that the rest of the building would come down at any moment, given the collapse earlier in the day.
The entire city is being alerted to boil water due to frequent occurrences, although not exactly frequent. This resulted in a loss of water pressure for the entire neighborhood. Several blocks were flooded and a large chunk of asphalt was sent flying into the air when the main water line in Uptown exploded. The collapse of the Rock Hard Hotel was not the only thing that went wrong that day.
The citizens of Louisiana were casting their votes for the Governor, and it was election day. Additionally, there was a blackout in the area that caused shops and houses in the vicinity to lose power. A friend of mine informed me that an electrical pole had toppled for no apparent reason in downtown.
It has been delayed three times since the first scheduled opening in the year.
The view from here in New Orleans, on the road that never seems to be completed, sometimes disappears and collapses. Suddenly, it seemed that Hemingway described the process of bankruptcy in the same way, gradually describing the progress of a culture. The workers have moved on. The road has expanded. On the first day, the highway has a new lane. And compared to the progress of civilization, the construction crew, a bunch of guys in vests, doesn’t seem to be doing much every day. In his preface to the American Studies book, historian and literary critic Louis Menand writes about this.
Continue reading the remainder of this narrative in Stranger’s Guide: New Orleans.
Before there were 18th-century and 19th-century authors who wrote “stranger’s guides” to countries and cities, the Guide Stranger’s was a modern version of the idea that portrayed intimate and eccentric personal portrayals. They preferred facts about poetry and paleontology, as well as history of brothels alongside the best boarding houses in the context and advice of offbeat and particular tips, combined with helpful books and pamphlets.