Terrifying Tales of Tall Towers

The other day we were discussing how tall a certain skyscraper near my parents’ house was going to be built. From the promotions we heard above a 100 stories; my husband loved going up the Petronas tower when we went to Kuala Lumpur and was pretty excited about this new building in our city. He asked if they would make a viewing deck if it’s going to be so tall, I thought of course, what better way to use the height to advantage.
My father though did not share in the excitement, “When you’ve taken so many flights, the top of the building doesn’t seem like an exciting prospect”. He had worked at the Kingdom Towers in Riyadh for a few years and talked about going up to the observation bridge at the top. Having taken monthly flights to and from Riyadh, the view from that bridge had nothing new to offer. The landscape was the same, his office on the 20th floor had the same view but from a lower angle. The thrill of the height had died with those frequent flights.
I teased my husband about his glee at having the window seat on all the flights during our honeymoon, yet despite those flights he still felt that thrill at the top of Petronas Towers and wondered if any place could make my dad feel the same.
Dad went into flashback mode and remembered the 70s-80s when he went travelling through Europe. He talked about the Eiffel tower, how it used to be open to the public for free regardless of what level you went to. An elevator first went up the slanted legs to the first platform, there he found restaurants, an amusement park, a huge area for people to hang out. Take the next elevator from the center of that platform and you reached another platform where you could start feeling your feet shifting because of the wind and then an elevator in the center of that platform shot you up to the top level.
Right there at the top in the center was a large room with wax status like Alexander Graham Bell on a telephone and such. Around the room there was a balcony-like space for you to walk around and look at Paris. Perhaps that could have been all, but on top of that room was another small platform. Since in those days there was no heightened security protocol or anyone stopping people from being crazy, my dad also climbed his way to the platform on top of the room with the statues.
The force of the wind, the complete bird eye view of the beautiful city, the openness of his position. That is where he felt that he was truly exposed to the elements.
From that small platform a caged ladder went vertically up to the communication towers and although Dad speculated over trying to go higher up, he decided not to pump his adrenaline that high.
But in his memories, was the place he felt the thrill of being among the clouds.

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