The Claims-Free Architect

When a 25-Tonne Precast Wall Crashes Down, Who's Responsible?

Season 3 Episode 10

When a major building component, such as an exterior wall, fails during construction, who was supposed to check the shop drawings?

The cause of the near-tragedy becomes obvious, only after the wall has fallen over - it hadn’t been tied into the structure. You’ll learn how dereliction of duty triggered a catastrophic series of events.


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A wall depends on two things: gravity, which holds it in place, and integrity, which holds it together. To make sure that the wall has stability, it’s also necessary to connect it to an overall structure.


A wall that is strong and cohesive but unconnected—in other words a wall that stays in one piece even as it falls over—is a very dangerous wall, as illustrated by this story, which we call “FALLEN WALL.”


The workers at the On-Pointe Ballet Shoe factory in Barrie, Ontario were looking forward to lunch break. Manufacturing pointe shoes requires a lot of careful attention, and over the past few weeks, since the company had started renovating the adjoining warehouse and offices, it had become increasingly difficult to concentrate on anything. The noise and dust were bad enough, but the periodic vibration from jack hammers and heavy equipment was making their delicate task all the more difficult.


And yet, things were about to become a lot worse. At 11:47 on that sunny Tuesday morning, the entire concrete wall of the second floor of the new addition tipped over and crashed onto the roof of the factory, with a thundering roar.


The workers could feel the impact throughout their entire bodies. Some of them imagined that a large aircraft had crash-landed on the roof; others feared that Armageddon had begun. All of them scrambled toward the exit, praying to whichever deities they hoped might protect them.


As it turned out, the necessary protection had already been provided by the metal decking and steel structure of the factory, which, although it had buckled under the impact and extra weight, had held firm. As the workers gathered outside and peered back toward the roof, the dust slowly settled, and the cause of the terrifying event became apparent. But how on earth had it happened?


The Architect Enzo Balla heard about the collapse from the Contractor Ari Contrero, who called from the site that afternoon, after he and his crew had surveyed the damage. Balla was shaken by the news, and spent a sleepless night wondering if he had done something to cause the near-catastrophe. The next morning, he gathered his thoughts and called Pro-Demnity. He had convinced himself that the event had nothing to do with him, because the work was still “under construction,” and any temporary support and shoring were defined as “means and methods,” of construction, therefore clearly the responsibility of the General Contractor. His phone call to Pro-Demnity was intended as a simple heads-up in case further complications arose.


He expressed his profound dismay and disappointment at the incompetence of others—definitely the General Contractor and probably the Engineer—but he, himself, was blameless.


A day later, when the Engineer Fern Exeter learned of the mishap, she called her own insurer, and related a similar story: There was nothing wrong with the engineering. Maybe the Architect was to blame. But certainly, the General Contractor bore the greatest responsibility, by obviously neglecting to see that the wall was properly braced.


The General Contractor, in turn, wrote to the Owner’s solicitor, stating that they had constructed the work according to the drawings and specifications. His crew had done nothing wrong. The Architect and Engineer had obviously made design errors.


The Owner was left with no choice but to issue a Statement of Claim implicating everyone, and let the lawyers sort it out. The claim included: disposal of the now-horizontal wall, removal and replacement of the damaged steel roof structure, reconstruction of the wall and the factory roof, and economic loss due to delay and extra expenses. It all worked out at $300,000.


Several months passed, while each party cemented their positions. Pro-Demnity counsel believed that the Architect was without liability in the matter. After all, the work was incomplete, so it remained under the control of the General Contractor, who had failed to connect the wall to the structure supporting it. Since no contradictory evidence had been produced, we felt we had a strong case.


Discoveries were looming. All parties had assembled what documents they could, and were preparing themselves for the legal confrontation that lay ahead. It was the plaintiff’s counsel who suggested that, before we commit to the time and expense of discoveries, we should try a mediation session. We completely agreed.

 

The mediation took place in a downtown meeting room, with all parties in attendance, including the Third Party wall manufacturer, Mendax Fabrication Systems. The mediator, retired Justice H. Greengrass, put the parties at ease with his affable manner and down-to-earth preamble, describing the mediation process, and confirming what we already believed: that we were making a wise decision in avoiding trial.


Justice Greengrass asked the plaintiff’s counsel to start things off by putting his client’s case forward . . . “in a nutshell,” if possible. Rising to his feet, counsel for the plaintiff reached into his briefcase, and pulled out a file and a large photograph, which he placed on the table. As he launched into his presentation, the Pro-Demnity Claims Specialist leaned forward and slid the photograph closer to him. Then, in a move reminiscent of Sherlock Holmes, he drew, from his own briefcase, a large magnifying glass, and began examining the photograph.


Plaintiff’s counsel paused briefly, as all eyes fell on the Claims Specialist’s subtly dramatic gesture. But he cleared his throat audibly, and regained the group’s attention, as he proceeded with his delivery.


The photograph appeared to have been taken from the roof of the building under construction. It showed the back of a precast concrete wall, about 20 metres by 5 metres, lying on top of the factory roof. This was the end wall of the second storey of the warehouse and office building that had fallen, slightly damaged, but virtually intact, onto the lower roof structure. Using his private-eye magnifying glass, the Claims Specialist observed that the wall contained no discernible ties or steel connections back to the structure. There seemed to be nothing that would have stabilized this massive wall—weighing somewhere in the order of 25 metric tonnes—against any lateral forces. It had been totally freestanding.


To the Claims Specialist, it was clear that something of a miracle had occurred. By any calculation, the live load created by the fallen wall and the kinetic energy of the fall should have collapsed the lower roof, under which dozens of workers were making shoes. The factory roof had buckled but hadn’t collapsed, and the workers had escaped unharmed. In effect, where the absence of one structural element had nearly crushed them, the remarkable resilience of another structural element had saved their lives.


As the plaintiff’s counsel continued calmly putting his case forward, the Claims Specialist had a quiet word with Pro-Demnity counsel, and once again, interrupted the proceedings, politely requesting that the defendants be permitted to meet privately, to discuss a “new development.”


Out of earshot and off the record, the defendants considered the new twist the case had taken. What the photograph had revealed was frankly incomprehensible, and there was no way that anyone having any connection with the project could escape responsibility for having allowed such an unsafe, potentially lethal condition to have been constructed, apparently unobserved. Any court would demand that liability for building such a dangerous structure should be shared among all the defendants.


The Claims Specialist had changed his view dramatically, and all the defendants began to realize that not only were we fortunate in having escaped responsibility for a massive human catastrophe, but the financial and professional implications would have been beyond reckoning. 


We carefully re-examined the architectural drawings and specifications. None of us—Claims Specialist or co-defendants—could find any indication of how the prefabricated precast wall was supposed to have been tied back to the structure. But this was not surprising since this information would normally be found on the engineering drawings.


The Claims Specialist passed around his magnifying glass along with the photographic enlargement. Again, there was no evidence of structural tiebacks in the photograph.


The Engineer Exeter was less concerned because she hadn’t been hired to review the precast concrete design—that was the Architect’s job—but more importantly, she hadn’t actually designed the wall structure. The Owner had chosen a prefabricated precast system that left little room for her engineering input. If she had been asked to supply engineering services for the wall, she would most certainly have reviewed the ties and connections. Even so, as the structural consultant on the project, she would have to assume some responsibility for structural details not provided.


In this regard, Mendax Fabrication Systems were off the hook. Their contract clearly stated: “structural ties by others,” as did their very clear shop drawings, which had been reviewed and signed off by both Architect and Engineer. These critically important shop drawings had not been given much attention, and had been presented to us only the day before.


Mendax, unlike the Architect and Engineer, had a winnable case.


The Mendax representative was none other than the company’s vice president—a seasoned negotiator himself, and a person used to crafting compromises. He set the tone for the squabbling lesser mortals and, despite his company’s solid case, offered to contribute to a settlement.


Contrero the Contractor, had little to add, except that if ties or connections had been called for he would have installed them.


Most important, a simple principle had been overlooked by everyone. An unattached wall is an unstable wall. Every wall, exterior or interior must be braced against lateral loads.


With this as a starting point, Justice Greengrass diplomatically, but forcefully, led the defendant parties to a position that seemed reasonable to all, where each assumed some liability—the professionals at 50%, divided equally between the Architect and the Engineer, and the Constructors at 50%, divided between the General Contractor and the Fabricators.


The figure we arrived at—$400,000—was less than the claim amount, but still substantial. The Engineer Exeter, who had probably the greatest exposure, was still dragging her feet, motivated, we believed, by her high deductible amount. 


Justice Greengrass conveyed our offer to the plaintiff and was even able to cajole them into waiving their claim for economic loss. They agreed to our figure, and the Minutes of Settlement were drawn up, then and there.

 

On the one hand, this case provided an object lesson in what the mediation process can achieve. A shrewd settlement in a polite atmosphere saved tens of thousands of dollars in legal fees for each party and, as sometimes happens, a little justice was served.


On the other hand, it’s frightening to consider that the buildings we help to create as Architects have the ability, under rare circumstances, to cause personal injury. Given the dire consequences that might have resulted from the oversight displayed in this case, the lessons to be learned are especially consequential.


Lesson No. 1: In a traditional design-bid-build contract, and often in the eyes of the court, the Architect is the “captain of the ship,” entrusted with maintaining communication among all parties, and assuming responsibility for the work of those they have engaged. The Architect’s views on “who should have done what” may not interest the court, especially where there has been a serious oversight that somebody—anybody—should have noticed.


Lesson No. 2: The question of who is liable for the stability of a wall is a frequent cause of disputes between Architects and Engineers. The answer is that both should verify that the matter has been looked after.


Lesson No. 3: Shop drawings should be taken seriously. Whatever you may be inclined to believe, you are expected to examine them carefully. In this case, the shop drawings clearly confirmed that the required connections were not in anyone’s contract. Neither the Architect nor the Engineer picked up on this, nor did they check to see who was providing the structural tiebacks to connect the wall to its supporting structure. The result was as terrifying as it was predictable.