2. Barylick, John.
Killer show : The Station nightclub fire, America’s
deadliest rock concert / John Barylick.
p.
cm.
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 978-1-61168-265-6 (cloth : alk. paper)—
ISBN 978-1-61168-204-5 (ebook)
1. Station (Nightclub : West Warwick, R.I.)—Fire,
2003. 2. Nightclubs—Fires and fire prevention—
Rhode
Island—West Warwick. 3. Fires—Rhode Island—West
Warwick. 4. Great White (Musical group)
I. Title.
F89.W4B37 2012
974.5'4—dc23 2012002561
4
http://www.upne.com
http://www.upne.com
FOR THE VICTIMS
5
It’s gonna be a killer show.
—Jack Russell, lead singer of Great White,
February 20, 2003
killer adj. (orig. US) 1 [1970s+] terrific,
amazing, effective.. 2 [1980s+] ghastly,
terrible.
3. —Cassell’s Dictionary of Slang, 1998
6
CONTENTS
1. Sifting the Ashes
2. Mill Town Watering Hole
3. Rock Impresarios
4. Only Rock ’n’ Roll
5. That Ain’t No Way to Have Fun, Son
6. Lucky Day
7. Yours, in Fire Safety…
8. Suds, Sparks, and Sponsorship
9. Film at Eleven
10. This Way Out
11. Cause for Alarm
12. I’m with the Band
13. Fighting for Air
14. A Snowball’s Chance in Hell
15. The Way of All Flesh
16. Domino Theory
17. The Sound and the Fury
18. Into the Breach
19. Solid Gasoline
20. The Missing
21. Artifacts of Tragedy
22. Circling the Wagons
23. Crime and Punishment
24. “First, Survival; Then, Function; Then,
Cosmetics”
25. Risky Business
26. Making the Tough Cases
27. Burning Question
4. 28. Divining the Incalculable
29. Memento Mori
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Appendixes
List of Persons Killed in the Station Nightclub
Fire
Outcome of Criminal Prosecutions
7
Outcome of Civil Lawsuits
Notes and Sources
Index
Illustrations
8
Floor plan of The Station, with location of
individuals at 11 p.m. on February 20, 2003.
(Diagram courtesy of
Jeff Drake, Drake Exhibits)
9
CHAPTER 1
SIFTING THE ASHES
5. FEBRUARY 21, 2003, DAWNED STUNNINGLY
CRISP and cold in New England. Over a foot of
fresh snow had fallen the previous two days, and
conditions were what skiers jokingly
call “severe clear” — cloudless blue skies, bright
sun, temperatures in the teens, and
windchill in single digits. It was, in short,
postcard picture-perfect.
On this morning, however, the images being
snapped by news photographers in the
town of West Warwick, Rhode Island, were hardly
Currier and Ives material.
In the southeast corner of town sat a nightclub
called The Station — or what was
now left of it. At present, it consisted of a
smoldering footprint of rubble at the end of
a rutted parking lot, surrounded by banks of
dirty snow into which burning bar patrons
had blindly thrown themselves just eight hours
earlier. The site resembled the scene of
a battle, fought and lost. Discarded half-burned
shirts littered the lot, along with soiled
bandages and purple disposable rescuers’ gloves.
Hearses had long since supplanted
ambulances, the work of firefighters having shifted
from rescue to recovery.
Alongside the smoking remains of the club, a hulking
yellow excavating machine
gingerly picked at the building’s remains. Its
operator had demolished many fire-
damaged buildings before, but none where each
“pick” of the claw might reveal
6. another victim.
Yellow-coated state fire investigators and federal
agents wearing “ATF” jackets
combed the scene, while a department
chaplain divided his time between consoling
first responders and praying over each body as
it was removed. Only snippets of
conversation among the firefighters could be
overheard, but one — “bodies stacked
like cordwood” — would become the tragedy’s
reporting cliché.
And there was no shortage of reporters covering the
fire. By late morning, over one
hundred of them huddled in a loose group at
the site, faces hidden by upturned collars,
their steamy exhalations piercing the frigid air at
irregular intervals. Stamping
circulation into their cold-numbed feet, they
awaited any morsel of news, then,
fortified, drifted apart to phone in stories or do
stand-ups beside network uplink trucks.
Following protocol, all but designated spokesmen
avoided contact with the press.
The area had immediately been declared a crime
scene, and yellow tape, soon to be
replaced by chain-link fence, kept reporters far from
what remained of the building
itself. During the first daylight hours, news
helicopters clattered overhead, their rotor
wash kicking up ash and blowing the tarps erected by
firefighters to shield the grisly
recovery effort from prying eyes. That vantage point
was lost after one chopper got so
7. low it blew open body bags containing
victims’ remains. Immediately, the FAA
declared the site a “no-fly” zone. Good footage
would be hard to come by.
That is, good post-fire footage. Video of the
fire itself, from ignition to tragic
stampede, had already been broadcast throughout
the United States and abroad,
10
because a news cameraman happened to be
shooting inside the club. The world had
seen the riveting images: an ’80s heavy-metal band,
Great White, sets off
pyrotechnics, igniting foam insulation on the club’s
walls; concertgoers’ festive mood
changes in seconds to puzzlement, then concern,
then horror as flames race up the
stage walls and over the crowd, raining burning
plastic on their heads; a deadly scrum
forms at the main exit.
Now, all that remained were reporters’ questions and a
sickening burnt-flesh smell
when the biting wind shifted to the south.
Among the questioners was Whitney Casey,
CNN’S youngest reporter, who just hours earlier
had exited a Manhattan nightclub
following a friend’s birthday celebration. Dance
music was still echoing in her sleep-
deprived head when she arrived at a very
different nightclub scene in West Warwick.
8. Casey had covered the World Trade Center
collapse as a cub reporter on September
11, 2001. From its preternaturally clear
day to desperate families in search of the
missing, the Station nightclub fire assignment would
have eerie parallels to her 9/11
reporting baptism.
It wasn’t long before the sweater and jeans from
Casey’s “crash bag” (on hand for
just such short-notice call-outs) proved a poor
match for New England’s winter.
Shivering alongside the yellow tape line, the CNN
reporter spotted State Fire Marshal
Irving J. “Jesse” Owens huddling with West
Warwick fire chief Charles Hall. She
heard questions shouted by her fellow reporters:
“Chief, how recently was the club
inspected?” “What was the club’s capacity?”
“Who put that foam up on the walls?”
Neither responded. Nor would anyone in
authority answer those and other critical
questions for a very long time.
State Fire Marshal Owens had the world-weary look of
someone who had been
investigating fires for thirty years. Thin of hair
and pudgy of build, Owens had seen
many fatal fires before. But none like this. He had to
have heard the reporters’ shouted
questions in the same way one hears his doctor
prattle on after having first pronounced
the word “cancer” — as a faint sound drowned
out by the rush of racing thoughts.
Owens had a lot on his mind. Ten hours
before the fire, he had given an interview to
9. Bryan Rourke, a Providence Journal reporter,
on the subject of a recent Chicago
nightclub stampede in which twenty-one people
had been killed. “It’s very remote
something like that would happen here,” opined
Owens. Now he wondered whether
the phone message he left for Rourke while on
his way to the Station conflagration
would stop that story from running. “I guess we
spoke too soon,” he said in a dejected
voice-mail postscript.
Owens had arrived at The Station to find it
fully consumed by fire, and triage of
survivors already under way. Amid the crackle of
flames and din of sirens, his cell
phone rang. The caller ID displayed his home
number. His wife’s first words were,
“Jesse, Chris is missing.” “Who?” “Your
nephew, Chris. He went to The Station last
night and they can’t find him. Can you?” Given
the stench of death around him,
Owens must have thought, “I certainly don’t want to
find him here.”
The fire marshal was hardly alone in looking
for family. Because video of the fire
had been broadcast almost immediately, distraught
relatives of Station patrons flocked
to the scene when their cell phone calls to
loved ones went unanswered. Over the next
several days, they would go from hospital to
hospital in Providence, Boston, and
Worcester, clutching photos for doctors to match
to horrifically burned faces. And with
10. 11
each “not here,” the families’ options would shrink.
Even though reporters were kept at a distance from
the burnt-out rubble, TV crews
had something of an advantage. Television “live”
trucks often sport video cameras on
their telescoping communication masts, from which
their crews can peer down upon
“restricted access” scenes. Reporters like CNN’S
Casey watched on their monitors as
blue-gloved fire investigators combed through what
looked, at a distance, like
indistinguishable ashes. Had she been allowed closer
(or if her truck’s mast camera
had a higher resolution) she would have seen
those techs bagging and labeling victims’
personal effects and body parts. A glove
containing hand bones. A section of scalp,
with hair attached. And, over by what remained of the
stage, several charred cardboard
tubes for pyrotechnic “gerbs” — a kind of
heavy-duty sparkler — as well as a
homemade stand for positioning them. These
were the first of many discoveries that
would begin to answer questions in the minds
of everyone from Providence to
Portugal who had seen the initial video: Why did
the fire spread so fast? What was
flammable packing foam doing on the walls of
a nightclub? How could any thinking
person ignite giant sparklers in that firetrap?
Throughout the night of the fire and into the next
11. day, the news media reported body
counts like a ghoulish sports score. First thirty-
nine, “with fears of many more.” Then
fifty, “and climbing.” By 11 a.m., the removal of
body bags from what remained of
The Station had ceased, with the “final” calculus an
astounding ninety-five.
That afternoon, Fire Marshal Owens’s cell phone
roused him from his
overwhelming fatigue. It was his wife, telling
him they’d found his nephew — at
Rhode Island Hospital — burned, but alive.
But many more remained missing. Shortly after
the video aired, the region’s
hospitals began filling with relatives looking for
their loved ones. There, smoke-
stained survivors attempted to comfort them with
information about where a son or
daughter was last seen within the club. Other injured
Station patrons chose to leave
hospitals, untreated, in deference to the more seriously
burned in need of urgent care.
That night, Kent County Memorial Hospital, closest to
the fire site, went through a
three-month supply of morphine.
Yet more friends and family members were drawn to
the still-smoking remains of
the club, where they stood, hugging and weeping.
One was Jackie Bernard, forty years
old, who stared at the smoldering rubble and
cried softly. She had been inside the club
with her closefriend and co-worker Tina Ayer when
12. fire broke out. Both worked as
housekeepers at the Fairfield Inn, where Great
White was staying. Tina was still
missing.
No one among those gathered at the site took
any particular notice of one fireman
lingering in the footprint of the burned-out club.
“Rocky” was a familiar figure at fire
scenes; as the town’s fire marshal, part of his
job was investigating the cause and
origin of fires there. As the fire marshal’s turn-
out boots crunched in the ruins, he must
have had the appalling realization that the ground
beneath him was intermixed with
what funeral directors euphemistically call “cremains.”
And only he could have known
that he was, perhaps, the single person most
responsible for this tragedy.
When the claw-armed excavating machine lifted
the remaining section of collapsed
roof from the club, another grim discovery was made.
The count was now ninety-six.
12
CHAPTER 2
MILL TOWN WATERING HOLE
IF WEST WARWICK, RHODE ISLAND, WERE A
CAR, it would be a 1957 Studebaker
—
13. functional in its day, but now well past its prime. It
has the look and feel of a place that
time, and certainly prosperity, have long since passed
by.
Driving through the town today, one can catch
glimpses of its industrial past.
Hulking textile mills, some boarded up, some
converted to “luxury condos,” line the
Pawtuxet River’s banks. Mill workers’ duplexes still
squat in the river’s floodplain,
while owners’ mansions, many now decrepit,
occupy the high ground. Mac’s
Bowlaway Lanes, its paint peeling, sits cheek-by-
jowl with Louise’s Liquors. A red J.
J. Newberry storefront harks back to its halcyon
days as a sponsor of TV’S Romper
Room, while the Portuguese Holy Ghost Society
and St. Anthony’s Church remind
visitors that Masses are still said in languages other
than English or Latin.
West Warwick homes are, for the most part,
pre–World War II vintage, often
multifamily, and set impossibly closeto one
another. Vinyl siding over rotted wood is
the dominant aesthetic. Which is not to say that
pride in ownership does not
occasionally shine through. Carefully tended
window boxes grace otherwise bleak
tenements. Manicured postage-stamp lawns hold
their own against incursion by
overgrown neighboring plots. In short, the
town has seen much better days, but its
close-knit, often blood-related residents refuse to
give up on it. Which is one reason
14. why tragedy hit so close, and so hard, that winter
of 2003.
West Warwick may lie at the geographic center of
America’s smallest state, but by
2003 it was as far from the state’s economic and
cultural mainstream as could be. It
had not always been so. Indeed, the town’s very
existence was an ironic testament to
greedy calculation.
With straight borders to its north, west, and
south and a tortured, winding border to
the east, the town appears to have been forcibly wrested
from its easterly neighbor,
Warwick — which is exactly what happened. While
political subdivisions often use
waterways as natural borders, West Warwick
clings jealously to both banks of the
Pawtuxet as that river makes its way east to
Narragansett Bay. And that was the beauty
of Patrick Quinn’s 1913 plan.
By the early 1900s, Warwick’s Pawtuxet River
Valley was the state’s most
industrialized and politically powerful region. Generations
of immigrants had settled
in ethnic enclaves bearing names like Arctic,
Crompton, and Riverpoint. French
Canadians, Irish, Poles, and Portuguese
huddled among their own in neighborhoods
often named for the area’s mill owners, such as
Lippitt, Clyde, or Harris. While Patrick
Quinn’s “come-over” Irish parents had labored in
the mills, he would rise above those
humble beginnings to become a lawyer and
15. politician of influence, riding the tide of
13
political change that transformed Rhode Island
from a WASP-dominated Republican
state to the ethnic Democratic one-party city-state it
remains to this day.
Quinn’s plan was to split West Warwick from Warwick so
as to seize both banks of
the Pawtuxet — and its golden-goose textile mills
— from the largely Republican
eastern area of the city. It worked like a charm.
As its first town council president,
Quinn promptly appointed his nephew and law partner
as city solicitor. Together they
would dominate the affairs of the newly
incorporated municipality for decades.
Quinn’s creation remained prosperous through the
1940s and into the ’50s. Fruit of
the Loom products made in West Warwick
stocked America’s underwear drawers.
Weekdays, often in three shifts, a League
of Nations labored in the mills. On
weekends, its ambassadors would spend their
overtime checks in Arctic’s bustling
retail center.
Then came the late ’50s and ’60s. One by one, the mills
shut down, heading south
for cheaper labor, while new shopping centers
sprang up in neighboring Warwick. In
16. 1958, when Interstate Highway 95 was completed
through Warwick proper, there was
simply no reason for anyone to driveto Arctic
to shop — or to visit West Warwick at
all. By 2003, eastern Warwick had become the
retail hub of Rhode Island and site of
the state’s newly modernized airport, its tax
base almost five times that of its western
spin-off. Quinn’s dream of an independently
prosperous West Warwick effectively
died with him in 1956.
Recent unsuccessful attempts to revitalize West
Warwick have ranged from the
desperate to the comical. First, there was the
proposal to create a tax-free shopping
zone (dead on arrival in the legislature). Then,
casting envious glances at one of the
world’s largest casinos, in nearby Ledyard,
Connecticut, West Warwick pols teamed
with Harrah’s to develop a Narragansett Indian
casino (defeated in multiple referenda).
Most recently, plans for a “destination-resort indoor
water park” were floated.
(Progress on that slowed appreciably in the state
legislature when rumors swirled that
it was really an FBI sting operation, thereby
seriously impairing its graft potential.)
With economic downturns often come fire and arson,
and West Warwick was not
spared their ravages. From the destruction of
the Roger Williams mill in 1821 to the
Crompton Mills fire in 1992, the town saw one
spectacular blaze after another. In fact,
following one such fire, a West Warwick neighborhood
17. was renamed Phenix, after the
mythological bird that rose from the ashes.
A mill fire is a sight to behold. With
foot-thick timbers and floors marinated in
decades of machine oil, old textile mills burn with
ferocious intensity, producing inky
smoke visible for miles. Many such West
Warwick fires had human help. In the 1990s
a string of twenty unsolved arson fires plagued
the town, creating a persistent feeling
of unease among its residents.
In a place the size of West Warwick, there’s
a fine line between business-as-usual
among old friends, and outright corruption. When
members of the same family
populate multiple municipal departments, opportunities
for self-dealing and nepotism
abound. A town councilman sought to negotiate
contracts with the police union — of
which his son was a member. A school
committee member pressured a principal to
hire his son as a teacher. A departing mayor
illegally paid himself $15,000 in “sick
14
time and vacation pay.” Few townsfolk were shocked.
Nor has its fire department been immune from
West Warwick’s brand of
opportunism. In 1977, a firefighter in the
department helped his diner-owning cousin
18. dynamite a competing Warwick restaurant. The
next year, two town councilmen
running for reelection promised a forty-one-year-old
campaign worker a firefighter’s
job, even though town policy barred hiring recruits
over age twenty-eight. In 1980, a
battalion chief was convicted of arson
conspiracy for delaying the department’s
response to a “successful” fire at a friend’s
warehouse. Later, in 1996, an obese
firefighter sought retirement on a disability pension
when he could no longer fit into
his boots. This, in a fire department of sixty-
five employees. It takes a lot to raise
eyebrows here.
In February of 2003 there sat in the
southeast corner of West Warwick, at 211
Cowesett Avenue, a small roadhouse that had seen
many different incarnations over
the decades. During World War II it had been
the Wheel, a navy bar catering to rowdy
sailors from Quonset Point. Later, it was reborn
as the Red Fox, the Cedar Acres Inn,
and Tammany Hall (reportedly, bullet holes in
the beer cooler attested to its rough-
and-tumble crowd). The wood-frame building was
modified from year to year and
from owner to owner, often with materials of dubious
quality and origin. A suspicious
fire scarred its interior in 1971, but despite
fuel containers later found in the dining
area, no arrests were made.
Raymond Villanova bought the building in 1974 and
operated one of three “P. Brillo
19. and Sons” Italian restaurants there until 1982,
peddling “spaghetti by the pound” to
Rhode Islanders hungry for bargain eats. The success
of “Papa Brillo’s” was to be the
building’s “highest and best use,” in real estate
parlance. All subsequent tenancies
were short-lived, alcohol-based, and downscale by
comparison.
By the mid-’80s Villanova, his reputation as
an aggressive businessman well
established, found commercial real estate
development to be more profitable and less
demanding than his restaurants. The dingy single-
level building at 211 Cowesett
Avenue became just one of his many holdings,
rented to a succession of hapless
entrepreneurs willing to sign onerous “as-is” leases
under which Villanova had no
obligation whatsoever to maintain or repair the
building. Developer Villanova’s
management of the property on Cowesett Avenue
consisted primarily of collecting
overdue rents and seeking property tax reductions
for the deteriorating property. If he
ever visited the building after 1995, his Rolls-Royce
would hardly have blended in.
The dubious allure of operating a marginal bar
attracted a parade of renters who
changed the club’s name, made low-budget
renovations, and more often than not
ended up begging off their lease with
Villanova and selling their “business” to
the
next, and greater, entrepreneurial fool. After
20. Brillo’s came, variously, Glenn’s Pub,
then CrackerJack’s, then the Filling Station. In late
1995, Howard Julian rose to the
challenge.
Julian liked rock music. A guitar player of
sorts, he found the prospect of rubbing
(and bending) elbows with musicians too attractive to
pass up. So he bought the
restaurant-turned-pub-turned-rock-club from Skip
Shogren, signing an “as-is” lease
with Villanova’s realty company. The “Filling
Station” name combined an automotive
15
theme with, perhaps, a wishful allusion to
anticipated drink sales. From its prior
owner
Julian inherited not only the club’s name but
also a clientele, several employees, and
its manager, Tim Arnold. He was also heir to the
building’s prior brushes with fire. A
tradesman changing a lightbulb for Julian once reached
into the ceiling space. “All the
rafters were charcoaled,” he said. “I put my hand on
it, it was black.”
Another thing that Julian’s club shared with its
predecessor on the site was the
animosity of its neighbors. The area of Cowesett
Avenue and Kulas Road in West
Warwick was, to put it most charitably, mixed
use. (Comprehensive zoning was never
21. the town’s strong suit.) Across Cowesett
Avenue from the Filling Station was a
restaurant, the Cowesett Inn. Across Kulas Road
from the club, an auto dealership. To
the club’s west lay a wooded lot. To its
immediate south, less than a hundred feet
from
the club itself, the property of one Barry Warner
marked the beginning of a residential
plat. Over the years, as tastes in musical volume
came to surpass fans’ pain thresholds,
it was inevitable that neighbors would
complain about the noise. And Warner
frequently led the charge.
Each time successive owners sought transfer of
liquor and entertainment licenses at
the site, Warner and others would complain to
the town council of overcrowding,
parking lot disturbances, and, invariably, the loud,
bass-pounding music. And each
would-be impresario, including Julian, would
promise the council new measures to
fight the noise: performing volume checks; keeping
the door nearest Warner’s house
tightly shut; installing noise-dampening materials.
One application of soundproofing material occurred in
the early summer of 1996.
The Filling Station’s manager, Tim Arnold, observed
Julian screwing white plastic
foam blocks to the walls of the drummer’s
alcove at the center of the stage. They
were
seventeen-inch-square, two-inch-thick blocks of stiff
foam, each the consistency of
22. “swimming pool noodles.” Julian applied 192 square
feet of the stuff to the alcove’s
three walls. It is unclear where he obtained
this plastic foam; however, this was not the
last time that materials of questionable quality would
compromise the building at 211
Cowesett Avenue.
Notwithstanding Julian’s parsimony, his club formula
was still a bust. By late 1999,
he was resorting to gimmicks like karaoke, mud
wrestling, and male stripper nights to
stay afloat. A video shot at the club (which by
then had been renamed, simply, The
Station) captured Julian onstage with the featured
act, engrossed in fish-faced guitar
noodling. Heady as such moments must have been for
him, they did not pay the rent.
Almost four years into his venture, Julian still
owed purchase money to prior owner
Skip Shogren. In arrears to his landlord by over
$40,000 in February 2000, Julian, like
so many before him, sought a buyer for
his failing business. He implored his landlord
not to tip any prospective buyer to the fact
that months of unpaid back rent (as well as
the balance of his debt to Shogren) would be
escrowed from any purchase closing. “I
firmly believe that if the amount of rent in
rears [sic] is disclosed, the potential buyer
will be scared away,” wrote Julian to
Villanova.
One potential purchaser, Al Prudhomme, played
drums with a local band, Fathead,
and was a regular at the club. He dearly wanted
23. to buy it from Julian, but his wife,
Charlene, “just wouldn’t go for it.” He would one
day thank her.
Julian’s potential salvation arrived in December
1999, in the persons of two
thirtyish brothers, Michael and Jeffrey Derderian.
Native Rhode Islanders, the
16
Derderians were, respectively, a businessman
and a reporter for a Boston TV station.
They hardly blended with The Station’s blue-collar
clientele (one of the bar’s denizens
later described them as sporting “Wally Cleaver
haircuts”); however, they were
sufficiently bitten by the club-owner bug as to
seriously consider buying Julian’s
business.
It could not have been the ramshackle building
that attracted the Derderians. And,
yet, standing inside facing west toward the stage,
the brothers must have entertained
grand visions for the dingy space. The stage
itselfwas a platform, approximately two
feet higher than the dance floor area. Another six
inches above that sat the drummer’s
alcove, a bump-out on the club’s exterior wall. To
the right of the stage was the only
door on the building’s west or south sides. This
“stage door” was used to load band
gear in and out. It was actually two doors hung
24. back to back. The first hinged inward
and bore a sign, Keep Door Closed at All Times.
Immediately behind it was another
door, hinged outward. This double-thickness door
was on the side closest to the house
of that vocal neighbor, Barry Warner. It would
certainly appear to be sound-deadening.
To the far right of the stage was the club’s pool
table area. Its north wall was not
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27. v
Contents
Fo r e w o r d xi
Ac k n o w l e d g m e n t s xiii
Au t h o r xv
I n t r o d u c t I o n xvii
c h A p t e r 1 th e “ r Av e l l” c o r p o r At I o n 1
Introduction 1
A New Approach 3
The Blueprint for Integration 5
Enlisting Support 6
Assessing Progress 7
Resistance in the Ranks 8
Line Management to the Rescue 8
IT Begins to Reflect 9
Defining an Identity for Information Technology 10
Implementing the Integration: A Move toward Trust and
Reflection 12
Key Lessons 14
Defining Reflection and Learning for an Organization 14
Working toward a Clear Goal 15
Commitment to Quality 15
Teaching Staff “Not to Know” 16
Transformation of Culture 16
Alignment with Administrative Departments 17
Conclusion 19
28. v i Contents
c h A p t e r 2 th e It d I l e m m A 21
Introduction 21
Recent Background 23
IT in the Organizational Context 24
IT and Organizational Structure 24
The Role of IT in Business Strategy 25
Ways of Evaluating IT 27
Executive Knowledge and Management of IT 28
IT: A View from the Top 29
Section 1: Chief Executive Perception of the Role of IT 32
Section 2: Management and Strategic Issues 34
Section 3: Measuring IT Performance and Activities 35
General Results 36
Defining the IT Dilemma 36
Recent Developments in Operational Excellence 38
c h A p t e r 3 te c h n o l o gy A s A vA r I A b l e A n d re s p
o n s I v e
o r g A n I z At I o n A l d y n A m I s m 41
Introduction 41
Technological Dynamism 41
Responsive Organizational Dynamism 42
Strategic Integration 43
Summary 48
Cultural Assimilation 48
IT Organization Communications with “ Others” 49
Movement of Traditional IT Staff 49
Summary 51
29. Technology Business Cycle 52
Feasibility 53
Measurement 53
Planning 54
Implementation 55
Evolution 57
Drivers and Supporters 58
Santander versus Citibank 60
Information Technology Roles and Responsibilities 60
Replacement or Outsource 61
c h A p t e r 4 o r g A n I z At I o n A l l e A r n I n g th e o r I e
s A n d
te c h n o l o gy 63
Introduction 63
Learning Organizations 72
Communities of Practice 75
Learning Preferences and Experiential Learning 83
Social Discourse and the Use of Language 89
Identity 91
Skills 92
v iiContents
Emotion 92
Linear Development in Learning Approaches 96
c h A p t e r 5 m A n A g I n g o r g A n I z At I o n A l l e A r n
I n g A n d
te c h n o l o gy 109
The Role of Line Management 109
30. Line Managers 111
First-Line Managers 111
Supervisor 111
Management Vectors 112
Knowledge Management 116
Ch ange Management 120
Change Management for IT Organizations 123
Social Networks and Information Technology 134
c h A p t e r 6 o r g A n I z At I o n A l tr A n s F o r m At I o n
A n d t h e
bA l A n c e d s c o r e c A r d 139
Introduction 139
Methods of Ongoing Evaluation 146
Balanced Scorecards and Discourse 156
Knowledge Creation, Culture, and Strategy 158
c h A p t e r 7 vI r t uA l te A m s A n d o u t s o u r c I n g 163
Introduction 163
Status of Virtual Teams 165
Management Considerations 166
Dealing with Multiple Locations 166
Externalization 169
Internalization 171
Combination 171
Socialization 172
Externalization Dynamism 172
Internalization Dynamism 173
Combination Dynamism 173
Socialization Dynamism 173
Dealing with Multiple Locations and Outsourcing 177
Revisiting Social Discourse 178
Identity 179
31. Skills 180
Emotion 181
c h A p t e r 8 sy n e r g I s t I c u n I o n o F It A n d
o r g A n I z At I o n A l l e A r n I n g 187
Introduction 187
Siemens AG 187
Aftermath 202
ICAP 203
v iii Contents
Five Years Later 224
HTC 225
IT History at HTC 226
Interactions of the CEO 227
The Process 228
Transformation from the Transition 229
Five Years Later 231
Summary 233
c h A p t e r 9 Fo r m I n g A c y b e r s e c u r I t y c u lt u r e
239
Introduction 239
History 239
Talking to the Board 241
Establishing a Security Culture 241
Understanding What It Means to be Compromised 242
Cyber Security Dynamism and Responsive Organizational
Dynamism 242
Cyber Strategic Integration 243
32. Cyber Cultural Assimilation 245
Summary 246
Organizational Learning and Application Development 246
Cyber Security Risk 247
Risk Responsibility 248
Driver /Supporter Implications 250
c h A p t e r 10 d I g I tA l tr A n s F o r m At I o n A n d c h A
n g e s I n
c o n s u m e r b e h Av I o r 251
Introduction 251
Requirements without Users and without Input 254
Concepts of the S-Curve and Digital Transformation
Analysis and Design 258
Organizational Learning and the S-Curve 260
Communities of Practice 261
The IT Leader in the Digital Transformation Era 262
How Technology Disrupts Firms and Industries 264
Dynamism and Digital Disruption 264
Critical Components of “ Digital” Organization 265
Assimilating Digital Technology Operationally and Culturally
267
Conclusion 268
c h A p t e r 11 I n t e g r At I n g g e n e r At I o n y e m p l oy
e e s t o
Ac c e l e r At e c o m p e t I t I v e A dvA n tA g e 269
Introduction 269
The Employment Challenge in the Digital Era 270
Gen Y Population Attributes 272
Advantages of Employing Millennials to Support Digital
Transformation 272
Integration of Gen Y with Baby Boomers and Gen X 273
33. i xContents
Designing the Digital Enterprise 274
Assimilating Gen Y Talent from Underserved and Socially
Excluded Populations 276
Langer Workforce Maturity Arc 277
Theoretical Constructs of the LWMA 278
The LWMA and Action Research 281
Implications for New Pathways for Digital Talent 282
Demographic Shifts in Talent Resources 282
Economic Sustainability 283
Integration and Trust 283
Global Implications for Sources of Talent 284
Conclusion 284
c h A p t e r 12 to wA r d b e s t p r A c t I c e s 287
Introduction 287
Chief IT Executive 288
Definitions of Maturity Stages and Dimension Variables in
the Chief IT Executive Best Practices Arc 297
Maturity Stages 297
Performance Dimensions 298
Chief Executive Officer 299
CIO Direct Reporting to the CEO 305
Outsourcing 306
Centralization versus Decentralization of IT 306
CIO Needs Advanced Degrees 307
Need for Standards 307
Risk Management 307
34. The CEO Best Practices Technology Arc 313
Definitions of Maturity Stages and Dimension Variables in
the CEO Technology Best Practices Arc 314
Maturity Stages 314
Performance Dimensions 315
Middle Management 316
The Middle Management Best Practices Technology Arc 323
Definitions of Maturity Stages and Dimension Variables in
the Middle Manager Best Practices Arc 325
Maturity Stages 325
Performance Dimensions 326
Summary 327
Ethics and Maturity 333
c h A p t e r 13 c o n c l u s I o n s 339
Introduction 339
g l o s s A ry 357
re F e r e n c e s 363
I n d e x 373
http://taylorandfrancis.com
x i
Foreword
Digital technologies are transforming the global economy.
35. Increasingly,
firms and other organizations are assessing their opportunities,
develop-
ing and delivering products and services, and interacting with
custom-
ers and other stakeholders digitally. Established companies
recognize
that digital technologies can help them operate their businesses
with
greater speed and lower costs and, in many cases, offer their
custom-
ers opportunities to co-design and co-produce products and
services.
Many start-up companies use digital technologies to develop
new prod-
ucts and business models that disrupt the present way of doing
busi-
ness, taking customers away from firms that cannot change and
adapt.
In recent years, digital technology and new business models
have dis-
rupted one industry after another, and these developments are
rapidly
transforming how people communicate, learn, and work.
Against this backdrop, the third edition of Arthur Langer’ s
Information Technology and Organizational Learning is most
welcome.
For decades, Langer has been studying how firms adapt to new
or
changing conditions by increasing their ability to incorporate
and use
advanced information technologies. Most organizations do not
adopt
new technology easily or readily. Organizational inertia and
embed-
36. ded legacy systems are powerful forces working against the
adoption
of new technology, even when the advantages of improved
technology
are recognized. Investing in new technology is costly, and it
requires
x ii Foreword
aligning technology with business strategies and transforming
cor-
porate cultures so that organization members use the technology
to
become more productive.
Information Technology and Organizational Learning addresses
these
important issues— and much more. There are four features of
the new
edition that I would like to draw attention to that, I believe,
make
this a valuable book. First, Langer adopts a behavioral
perspective
rather than a technical perspective. Instead of simply offering
norma-
tive advice about technology adoption, he shows how sound
learn-
ing theory and principles can be used to incorporate technology
into
the organization. His discussion ranges across the dynamic
learning
organization, knowledge management, change management,
com-
munities of practice, and virtual teams. Second, he shows how
37. an
organization can move beyond technology alignment to true
technol-
ogy integration. Part of this process involves redefining the
traditional
support role of the IT department to a leadership role in which
IT
helps to drive business strategy through a technology-based
learn-
ing organization. Third, the book contains case studies that
make the
material come alive. The book begins with a comprehensive
real-life
case that sets the stage for the issues to be resolved, and smaller
case
illustrations are sprinkled throughout the chapters, to make
concepts
and techniques easily understandable. Lastly, Langer has a
wealth of
experience that he brings to his book. He spent more than 25
years
as an IT consultant and is the founder of the Center for
Technology
Management at Columbia University, where he directs
certificate and
executive programs on various aspects of technology innovation
and
management. He has organized a vast professional network of
tech-
nology executives whose companies serve as learning
laboratories for
his students and research. When you read the book, the
knowledge
and insight gained from these experiences is readily apparent.
If you are an IT professional, Information Technology and
38. Organi-
zational Learning should be required reading. However, anyone
who
is part of a firm or agency that wants to capitalize on the
opportunities
provided by digital technology will benefit from reading the
book.
Charles C. Snow
Professor Emeritus, Penn State University
Co-Editor, Journal of Organization Design
x iii
Acknowledgments
Many colleagues and clients have provided significant support
during
the development of the third edition of Information Technology
and
Organizational Learning.
I owe much to my colleagues at Teachers College, namely,
Professor
Victoria Marsick and Lyle Yorks, who guided me on many of
the the-
ories on organizational learning, and Professor Lee Knefelkamp,
for
her ongoing mentorship on adult learning and developmental
theo-
ries. Professor David Thomas from the Harvard Business School
also
provided valuable direction on the complex issues surrounding
39. diver-
sity, and its importance in workforce development.
I appreciate the corporate executives who agreed to participate
in the studies that allowed me to apply learning theories to
actual
organizational practices. Stephen McDermott from ICAP
provided
invaluable input on how chief executive officers (CEOs) can
success-
fully learn to manage emerging technologies. Dana Deasy, now
global
chief information officer (CIO) of JP Morgan Chase,
contributed
enormous information on how corporate CIOs can integrate
tech-
nology into business strategy. Lynn O’ Connor Vos, CEO of
Grey
Healthcare, also showed me how technology can produce direct
mon-
etary returns, especially when the CEO is actively involved.
And, of course, thank you to my wonderful students at
Columbia
University. They continue to be at the core of my inspiration
and love
for writing, teaching, and scholarly research.
http://taylorandfrancis.com
x v
Author
40. Arthur M. Langer, EdD, is professor of professional practice
of management and the director of the Center for Technology
Management at Columbia University. He is the academic direc-
tor of the Executive Masters of Science program in Technology
Management, vice chair of faculty and executive advisor to the
dean
at the School of Professional Studies and is on the faculty of the
Department of Organization and Leadership at the Graduate
School
of Education (Teachers College). He has also served as a
member of
the Columbia University Faculty Senate. Dr. Langer is the
author
of Guide to Software Development: Designing & Managing the
Life
Cycle. 2nd Edition (2016), Strategic IT: Best Practices for
Managers
and Executives (2013 with Lyle Yorks), Information
Technology and
Organizational Learning (2011), Analysis and Design of
Information
Systems (2007), Applied Ecommerce (2002), and The Art of
Analysis
(1997), and has numerous published articles and papers, relating
to digital transformation, service learning for underserved
popula-
tions, IT organizational integration, mentoring, and staff
develop-
ment. Dr. Langer consults with corporations and universities on
information technology, cyber security, staff development, man-
agement transformation, and curriculum development around the
Globe. Dr. Langer is also the chairman and founder of
Workforce
Opportunity Services (www.wforce.org), a non-profit social
venture
41. x v i Author
that provides scholarships and careers to underserved
populations
around the world.
Dr. Langer earned a BA in computer science, an MBA in
accounting/finance, and a Doctorate of Education from
Columbia
University.
x v ii
Introduction
Background
Information technology (IT) has become a more significant part
of
workplace operations, and as a result, information systems
person-
nel are key to the success of corporate enterprises, especially
with
the recent effects of the digital revolution on every aspect of
business
and social life (Bradley & Nolan, 1998; Langer, 1997, 2011;
Lipman-
Blumen, 1996). This digital revolution is defined as a form of “
dis-
ruption.” Indeed, the big question facing many enterprises
today is,
42. How can executives anticipate the unexpected threats brought
on by
technological advances that could devastate their business? This
book
focuses on the vital role that information and digital technology
orga-
nizations need to play in the course of organizational
development
and learning, and on the growing need to integrate technology
fully
into the processes of workplace organizational learning.
Technology
personnel have long been criticized for their inability to
function as
part of the business, and they are often seen as a group outside
the
corporate norm (Schein, 1992). This is a problem of cultural
assimila-
tion, and it represents one of the two major fronts that
organizations
now face in their efforts to gain a grip on the new, growing
power of
technology, and to be competitive in a global world. The other
major
x v iii IntroduCtIon
front concerns the strategic integration of new digital
technologies
into business line management.
Because technology continues to change at such a rapid pace,
the
ability of organizations to operate within a new paradigm of
43. dynamic
change emphasizes the need to employ action learning as a way
to
build competitive learning organizations in the twenty-first
century.
Information Technology and Organizational Learning integrates
some
of the fundamental issues bearing on IT today with concepts
from
organizational learning theory, providing comprehensive
guidance,
based on real-life business experiences and concrete research.
This book also focuses on another aspect of what IT can mean
to
an organization. IT represents a broadening dimension of
business life
that affects everything we do inside an organization. This new
reality is
shaped by the increasing and irreversible dissemination of
technology.
To maximize the usefulness of its encroaching presence in
everyday
business affairs, organizations will require an optimal
understanding
of how to integrate technology into everything they do. To this
end,
this book seeks to break new ground on how to approach and
concep-
tualize this salient issue— that is, that the optimization of
information
and digital technologies is best pursued with a synchronous
imple-
mentation of organizational learning concepts. Furthermore,
these
concepts cannot be implemented without utilizing theories of
44. strategic
learning. Therefore, this book takes the position that technology
liter-
acy requires individual and group strategic learning if it is to
transform
a business into a technology-based learning organization.
Technology-
based organizations are defined as those that have impl emented
a means
of successfully integrating technology into their process of
organiza-
tional learning. Such organizations recognize and experience
the real-
ity of technology as part of their everyday business function. It
is what
many organizations are calling “ being digital.”
This book will also examine some of the many existing organi -
zational learning theories, and the historical problems that have
occurred with companies that have used them, or that have
failed
to use them. Thus, the introduction of technology into
organizations
actually provides an opportunity to reassess and reapply many
of the
past concepts, theories, and practices that have been used to
support
the importance of organizational learning. It is important,
however,
not to confuse this message with a reason for promoting
organizational
x i xIntroduCtIon
45. learning, but rather, to understand the seamless nature of the
relation-
ship between IT and organizational learning. Each needs the
other to
succeed. Indeed, technology has only served to expose problems
that
have existed in organizations for decades, e.g., the inability to
drive
down responsibilities to the operational levels of the
organization, and
to be more agile with their consumers.
This book is designed to help businesses and individual manag-
ers understand and cope with the many issues involved in
developing
organizational learning programs, and in integrating an
important
component: their IT and digital organizations. It aims to provide
a
combination of research case studies, together with existing
theories
on organizational learning in the workplace. The goal is also to
pro-
vide researchers and corporate practitioners with a book that
allows
them to incorporate a growing IT infrastructure with their exist-
ing workforce culture. Professional organizations need to
integrate
IT into their organizational processes to compete effectively in
the
technology-driven business climate of today. This book
responds to
the complex and various dilemmas faced by many human
resource
managers and corporate executives regarding how to actually
deal
46. with many marginalized technology personnel who somehow
always
operate outside the normal flow of the core business.
While the history of IT, as a marginalized organization, is rela-
tively short, in comparison to that of other professions, the
problems
of IT have been consistent since its insertion into business
organiza-
tions in the early 1960s. Indeed, while technology has changed,
the
position and valuation of IT have continued to challenge how
execu-
tives manage it, account for it, and, most important, ultimately
value
its contributions to the organization. Technology personnel
continue
to be criticized for their inability to function as part of the
business,
and they are often seen as outside the business norm. IT
employees
are frequently stereotyped as “ techies,” and are segregated in
such a
way that they become isolated from the organization. This book
pro-
vides a method for integrating IT, and redefining its role in
organiza-
tions, especially as a partner in formulating and implementing
key
business strategies that are crucial for the survival of many
companies
in the new digital age. Rather than provide a long and extensive
list of
common issues, I have decided it best to uncover the challenges
of IT
integration and performance through the case study approach.
47. x x IntroduCtIon
IT continues to be one of the most important yet least
understood
departments in an organization. It has also become one of the
most
significant components for competing in the global markets of
today.
IT is now an integral part of the way companies become
successful,
and is now being referred to as the digital arm of the business.
This
is true across all industries. The role of IT has grown
enormously in
companies throughout the world, and it has a mission to provide
stra-
tegic solutions that can make companies more competitive.
Indeed,
the success of IT, and its ability to operate as part of the
learning
organization, can mean the difference between the success and
failure
of entire companies. However, IT must be careful that it is not
seen as
just a factory of support personnel, and does not lose its
justification
as driving competitive advantage. We see in many organizations
that
other digital-based departments are being created, due to
frustration
with the traditional IT culture, or because they simply do not
see IT
as meeting the current needs for operating in a digital economy.
48. This book provides answers to other important questions that
have
challenged many organizations for decades. First, how can
manag-
ers master emerging digital technologies, sustain a relationship
with
organizational learning, and link it to strategy and performance?
Second, what is the process by which to determine the value of
using
technology, and how does it relate to traditional ways of
calculating
return on investment, and establishing risk models? Third, what
are
the cyber security implications of technology-based products
and
services? Fourth, what are the roles and responsibilities of the
IT
executive, and the department in general? To answer these
questions,
managers need to focus on the following objectives:
• Address the operational weaknesses in organizations, in
terms of how to deal with new technologies, and how to bet-
ter realize business benefits.
• Provide a mechanism that both enables organizations to deal
with accelerated change caused by technological innovations,
and integrates them into a new cycle of processing, and han-
dling of change.
• Provide a strategic learning framework, by which every new
technology variable adds to organizational knowledge and
can develop a risk and security culture.
49. x x iIntroduCtIon
• Establish an integrated approach that ties technology account-
ability to other measurable outcomes, using organizational
learning techniques and theories.
To realize these objectives, organizations must be able to
• create dynamic internal processes that can deal, on a daily
basis, with understanding the potential fit of new technologies
and their overall value within the structure of the business;
• provide the discourse to bridge the gaps between IT- and non-
IT-related investments, and uses, into one integrated system;
• monitor investments and determine modifications to the life
cycle;
• implement various organizational learning practices, includ-
ing learning organization, knowledge management, change
management, and communities of practice, all of which help
foster strategic thinking, and learning, and can be linked to
performance (Gephardt & Marsick, 2003).
The strengths of this book are that it integrates theory and
practice
and provides answers to the four common questions mentioned.
Many
of the answers provided in these pages are founded on theory
and
research and are supported by practical experience. Thus,
evidence of
the performance of the theories is presented via case studies,
which
are designed to assist the readers in determining how such
50. theories
and proven practices can be applied to their specific
organization.
A common theme in this book involves three important terms:
dynamic , unpredictable , and acceleration . Dynamic is a term
that rep-
resents spontaneous and vibrant things— a motive force.
Technology
behaves with such a force and requires organizations to deal
with its
capabilities. Glasmeier (1997) postulates that technology
evolution,
innovation, and change are dynamic processes. The force then is
tech-
nology, and it carries many motives, as we shall see throughout
this
book. Unpredictable suggests that we cannot plan what will
happen
or will be needed. Many organizational individuals, including
execu-
tives, have attempted to predict when, how, or why technology
will
affect their organization. Throughout our recent history,
especially
during the “ digital disruption” era, we have found that it is
difficult,
if not impossible, to predict how technology will ultimately
benefit or
x x ii IntroduCtIon
hurt organizational growth and competitive advantage. I believe
that
51. technology is volatile and erratic at times. Indeed, harnessing
tech-
nology is not at all an exact science; certainly not in the ways in
which
it can and should be used in today’ s modern organization.
Finally, I
use the term acceleration to convey the way technology is
speeding up
our lives. Not only have emerging technologies created this
unpre-
dictable environment of change, but they also continue to
change it
rapidly— even from the demise of the dot-com era decades ago.
Thus,
what becomes important is the need to respond quickly to
technology.
The inability to be responsive to change brought about by
technologi-
cal innovations can result in significant competitive
disadvantages for
organizations.
This new edition shows why this is a fact especially when
examining
the shrinking S-Curve. So, we look at these three words—
dynamic,
unpredictable, and acceleration— as a way to define how
technology
affects organizations; that is, technology is an accelerating
motive
force that occurs irregularly. These words name the challenges
that
organizations need to address if they are to manage
technological
innovations and integrate them with business strategy and
competi-
52. tive advantage. It only makes sense that the challenge of
integrating
technology into business requires us first to understand its
potential
impact, determine how it occurs, and see what is likely to
follow.
There are no quick remedies to dealing with emerging
technologies,
just common practices and sustained processes that must be
adopted
for organizations to survive in the future.
I had four goals in mind in writing this book. First, I am inter -
ested in writing about the challenges of using digital
technologies
strategically. What particularly concerns me is the lack of
literature
that truly addresses this issue. What is also troublesome is the
lack
of reliable techniques …
2
University Press of New England Hanover and
London
3
54. 4
http://www.upne.com
http://www.upne.com
FOR THE VICTIMS
5
It’s gonna be a killer show.
—Jack Russell, lead singer of Great White,
February 20, 2003
killer adj. (orig. US) 1 [1970s+] terrific,
amazing, effective.. 2 [1980s+] ghastly,
terrible.
—Cassell’s Dictionary of Slang, 1998
6
CONTENTS
1. Sifting the Ashes
2. Mill Town Watering Hole
3. Rock Impresarios
4. Only Rock ’n’ Roll
5. That Ain’t No Way to Have Fun, Son
6. Lucky Day
7. Yours, in Fire Safety…
8. Suds, Sparks, and Sponsorship
9. Film at Eleven
55. 10. This Way Out
11. Cause for Alarm
12. I’m with the Band
13. Fighting for Air
14. A Snowball’s Chance in Hell
15. The Way of All Flesh
16. Domino Theory
17. The Sound and the Fury
18. Into the Breach
19. Solid Gasoline
20. The Missing
21. Artifacts of Tragedy
22. Circling the Wagons
23. Crime and Punishment
24. “First, Survival; Then, Function; Then,
Cosmetics”
25. Risky Business
26. Making the Tough Cases
27. Burning Question
28. Divining the Incalculable
29. Memento Mori
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Appendixes
List of Persons Killed in the Station Nightclub
Fire
Outcome of Criminal Prosecutions
7
Outcome of Civil Lawsuits
Notes and Sources
Index
56. Illustrations
8
Floor plan of The Station, with location of
individuals at 11 p.m. on February 20, 2003.
(Diagram courtesy of
Jeff Drake, Drake Exhibits)
9
CHAPTER 1
SIFTING THE ASHES
FEBRUARY 21, 2003, DAWNED STUNNINGLY
CRISP and cold in New England. Over a foot of
fresh snow had fallen the previous two days, and
conditions were what skiers jokingly
call “severe clear” — cloudless blue skies, bright
sun, temperatures in the teens, and
windchill in single digits. It was, in short,
postcard picture-perfect.
On this morning, however, the images being
snapped by news photographers in the
town of West Warwick, Rhode Island, were hardly
Currier and Ives material.
In the southeast corner of town sat a
nightclub called The Station — or what was
57. now left of it. At present, it consisted of a
smoldering footprint of rubble at the end of
a rutted parking lot, surrounded by banks of
dirty snow into which burning bar patrons
had blindly thrown themselves just eight hours
earlier. The site resembled the scene of
a battle, fought and lost. Discarded half-burned
shirts littered the lot, along with soiled
bandages and purple disposable rescuers’ gloves.
Hearses had long since supplanted
ambulances, the work of firefighters having shifted
from rescue to recovery.
Alongside the smoking remains of the club, a hulking
yellow excavating machine
gingerly picked at the building’s remains. Its
operator had demolished many fire-
damaged buildings before, but none where each
“pick” of the claw might reveal
another victim.
Yellow-coated state fire investigators and federal
agents wearing “ATF” jackets
combed the scene, while a department
chaplain divided his time between consoling
first responders and praying over each body as
it was removed. Only snippets of
conversation among the firefighters could be
overheard, but one — “bodies stacked
like cordwood” — would become the tragedy’s
reporting cliché.
And there was no shortage of reporters covering the
fire. By late morning, over one
hundred of them huddled in a loose group at
the site, faces hidden by upturned collars,
58. their steamy exhalations piercing the frigid air at
irregular intervals. Stamping
circulation into their cold-numbed feet, they
awaited any morsel of news, then,
fortified, drifted apart to phone in stories or do
stand-ups beside network uplink trucks.
Following protocol, all but designated spokesmen
avoided contact with the press.
The area had immediately been declared a crime
scene, and yellow tape, soon to be
replaced by chain-link fence, kept reporters far
from what remained of the building
itself. During the first daylight hours, news
helicopters clattered overhead, their rotor
wash kicking up ash and blowing the tarps erected by
firefighters to shield the grisly
recovery effort from prying eyes. That vantage point
was lost after one chopper got so
low it blew open body bags containing
victims’ remains. Immediately, the FAA
declared the site a “no-fly” zone. Good footage
would be hard to come by.
That is, good post-fire footage. Video of the
fire itself, from ignition to tragic
stampede, had already been broadcast throughout
the United States and abroad,
10
because a news cameraman happened to be
shooting inside the club. The world had
seen the riveting images: an ’80s heavy-metal band,
59. Great White, sets off
pyrotechnics, igniting foam insulation on the club’s
walls; concertgoers’ festive mood
changes in seconds to puzzlement, then concern,
then horror as flames race up the
stage walls and over the crowd, raining burning
plastic on their heads; a deadly scrum
forms at the main exit.
Now, all that remained were reporters’ questions and a
sickening burnt-flesh smell
when the biting wind shifted to the south.
Among the questioners was Whitney Casey,
CNN’S youngest reporter, who just hours earlier
had exited a Manhattan nightclub
following a friend’s birthday celebration. Dance
music was still echoing in her sleep-
deprived head when she arrived at a very
different nightclub scene in West Warwick.
Casey had covered the World Trade Center
collapse as a cub reporter on September
11, 2001. From its preternaturally clear
day to desperate families in search of the
missing, the Station nightclub fire assignment would
have eerie parallels to her 9/11
reporting baptism.
It wasn’t long before the sweater and jeans from
Casey’s “crash bag” (on hand for
just such short-notice call-outs) proved a poor
match for New England’s winter.
Shivering alongside the yellow tape line, the CNN
reporter spotted State Fire Marshal
Irving J. “Jesse” Owens huddling with West
Warwick fire chief Charles Hall. She
heard questions shouted by her fellow reporters:
60. “Chief, how recently was the club
inspected?” “What was the club’s capacity?”
“Who put that foam up on the walls?”
Neither responded. Nor would anyone in
authority answer those and other critical
questions for a very long time.
State Fire Marshal Owens had the world-weary look of
someone who had been
investigating fires for thirty years. Thin of hair
and pudgy of build, Owens had seen
many fatal fires before. But none like this. He had to
have heard the reporters’ shouted
questions in the same way one hears his doctor
prattle on after having first pronounced
the word “cancer” — as a faint sound
drowned out by the rush of racing thoughts.
Owens had a lot on his mind. Ten hours
before the fire, he had given an interview to
Bryan Rourke, a Providence Journal reporter,
on the subject of a recent Chicago
nightclub stampede in which twenty-one people
had been killed. “It’s very remote
something like that would happen here,” opined
Owens. Now he wondered whether
the phone message he left for Rourke while on
his way to the Station conflagration
would stop that story from running. “I guess we
spoke too soon,” he said in a dejected
voice-mail postscript.
Owens had arrived at The Station to find it
fully consumed by fire, and triage of
survivors already under way. Amid the crackle of
flames and din of sirens, his cell
phone rang. The caller ID displayed his home
61. number. His wife’s first words were,
“Jesse, Chris is missing.” “Who?” “Your
nephew, Chris. He went to The Station last
night and they can’t find him. Can you?” Given
the stench of death around him,
Owens must have thought, “I certainly don’t want to
find him here.”
The fire marshal was hardly alone in looking
for family. Because video of the fire
had been broadcast almost immediately, distraught
relatives of Station patrons flocked
to the scene when their cell phone calls to
loved ones went unanswered. Over the next
several days, they would go from hospital to
hospital in Providence, Boston, and
Worcester, clutching photos for doctors to match
to horrifically burned faces. And with
11
each “not here,” the families’ options would shrink.
Even though reporters were kept at a distance from
the burnt-out rubble, TV crews
had something of an advantage. Television “live”
trucks often sport video cameras on
their telescoping communication masts, from which
their crews can peer down upon
“restricted access” scenes. Reporters like CNN’S
Casey watched on their monitors as
blue-gloved fire investigators combed through what
looked, at a distance, like
indistinguishable ashes. Had she been allowed
62. closer (or if her truck’s mast camera
had a higher resolution) she would have seen
those techs bagging and labeling victims’
personal effects and body parts. A glove
containing hand bones. A section of scalp,
with hair attached. And, over by what remained of the
stage, several charred cardboard
tubes for pyrotechnic “gerbs” — a kind of
heavy-duty sparkler — as well as a
homemade stand for positioning them. These
were the first of many discoveries that
would begin to answer questions in the minds
of everyone from Providence to
Portugal who had seen the initial video: Why did
the fire spread so fast? What was
flammable packing foam doing on the walls of
a nightclub? How could any thinking
person ignite giant sparklers in that firetrap?
Throughout the night of the fire and into the next
day, the news media reported body
counts like a ghoulish sports score. First thirty-
nine, “with fears of many more.” Then
fifty, “and climbing.” By 11 a.m., the removal of
body bags from what remained of
The Station had ceased, with the “final” calculus an
astounding ninety-five.
That afternoon, Fire Marshal Owens’s cell phone
roused him from his
overwhelming fatigue. It was his wife, telling
him they’d found his nephew — at
Rhode Island Hospital — burned, but alive.
But many more remained missing. Shortly after
the video aired, the region’s
63. hospitals began filling with relatives looking for
their loved ones. There, smoke-
stained survivors attempted to comfort them
with information about where a son or
daughter was last seen within the club. Other
injured Station patrons chose to leave
hospitals, untreated, in deference to the more seriously
burned in need of urgent care.
That night, Kent County Memorial Hospital, closest to
the fire site, went through a
three-month supply of morphine.
Yet more friends and family members were drawn to
the still-smoking remains of
the club, where they stood, hugging and weeping.
One was Jackie Bernard, forty years
old, who stared at the smoldering rubble and
cried softly. She had been inside the club
with her close friend and co-worker Tina Ayer when
fire broke out. Both worked as
housekeepers at the Fairfield Inn, where Great
White was staying. Tina was still
missing.
No one among those gathered at the site took
any particular notice of one fireman
lingering in the footprint of the burned-out club.
“Rocky” was a familiar figure at fire
scenes; as the town’s fire marshal, part of his
job was investigating the cause and
origin of fires there. As the fire marshal’s turn-
out boots crunched in the ruins, he must
have had the appalling realization that the ground
beneath him was intermixed with
what funeral directors euphemistically call “cremains.”
And only he could have known
64. that he was, perhaps, the single person most
responsible for this tragedy.
When the claw-armed excavating machine lifted
the remaining section of collapsed
roof from the club, another grim discovery was made.
The count was now ninety-six.
12
CHAPTER 2
MILL TOWN WATERING HOLE
IF WEST WARWICK, RHODE ISLAND, WERE A
CAR, it would be a 1957 Studebaker
—
functional in its day, but now well past its prime. It
has the look and feel of a place that
time, and certainly prosperity, have long since passed
by.
Driving through the town today, one can catch
glimpses of its industrial past.
Hulking textile mills, some boarded up, some
converted to “luxury condos,” line the
Pawtuxet River’s banks. Mill workers’ duplexes still
squat in the river’s floodplain,
while owners’ mansions, many now decrepit,
occupy the high ground. Mac’s
Bowlaway Lanes, its paint peeling, sits cheek-by-
jowl with Louise’s Liquors. A red J.
J. Newberry storefront harks back to its
halcyon days as a sponsor of TV’S Romper
65. Room, while the Portuguese Holy Ghost
Society and St. Anthony’s Church remind
visitors that Masses are still said in languages other
than English or Latin.
West Warwick homes are, for the most part,
pre–World War II vintage, often
multifamily, and set impossibly closeto one
another. Vinyl siding over rotted wood is
the dominant aesthetic. Which is not to say that
pride in ownership does not
occasionally shine through. Carefully tended
window boxes grace otherwise bleak
tenements. Manicured postage-stamp lawns hold
their own against incursion by
overgrown neighboring plots. In short, the
town has seen much better days, but its
close-knit, often blood-related residents refuse to
give up on it. Which is one reason
why tragedy hit so close, and so hard, that winter
of 2003.
West Warwick may lie at the geographic center of
America’s smallest state, but by
2003 it was as far from the state’s economic
and cultural mainstream as could be. It
had not always been so. Indeed, the town’s very
existence was an ironic testament to
greedy calculation.
With straight borders to its north, west, and
south and a tortured, winding border to
the east, the town appears to have been
forcibly wrested from its easterly neighbor,
Warwick — which is exactly what happened. While
political subdivisions often use
66. waterways as natural borders, West Warwick clings
jealously to both banks of the
Pawtuxet as that river makes its way east to
Narragansett Bay. And that was the beauty
of Patrick Quinn’s 1913 plan.
By the early 1900s, Warwick’s Pawtuxet River
Valley was the state’s most
industrialized and politically powerful region. Generations
of immigrants had settled
in ethnic enclaves bearing names like Arctic,
Crompton, and Riverpoint. French
Canadians, Irish, Poles, and Portuguese
huddled among their own in neighborhoods
often named for the area’s mill owners, such as
Lippitt, Clyde, or Harris. While Patrick
Quinn’s “come-over” Irish parents had labored in
the mills, he would rise above those
humble beginnings to become a lawyer and
politician of influence, riding the tide of
13
political change that transformed Rhode Island
from a WASP-dominated Republican
state to the ethnic Democratic one-party city-state it
remains to this day.
Quinn’s plan was to split West Warwick from Warwick so
as to seize both banks of
the Pawtuxet — and its golden-goose textile mills
— from the largely Republican
eastern area of the city. It worked like a charm.
As its first town council president,
67. Quinn promptly appointed his nephew and law partner
as city solicitor. Together they
would dominate the affairs of the newly
incorporated municipality for decades.
Quinn’s creation remained prosperous through the
1940s and into the ’50s. Fruit of
the Loom products made in West Warwick
stocked America’s underwear drawers.
Weekdays, often in three shifts, a League
of Nations labored in the mills. On
weekends, its ambassadors would spend their
overtime checks in Arctic’s bustling
retail center.
Then came the late ’50s and ’60s. One by one, the mills
shut down, heading south
for cheaper labor, while new shopping centers
sprang up in neighboring Warwick. In
1958, when Interstate Highway 95 was completed
through Warwick proper, there was
simply no reason for anyone to driveto Arctic
to shop — or to visit West Warwick at
all. By 2003, eastern Warwick had become the
retail hub of Rhode Island and site of
the state’s newly modernized airport, its tax
base almost five times that of its western
spin-off. Quinn’s dream of an independently
prosperous West Warwick effectively
died with him in 1956.
Recent unsuccessful attempts to revitalize West
Warwick have ranged from the
desperate to the comical. First, there was the
proposal to create a tax-free shopping
zone (dead on arrival in the legislature). Then,
68. casting envious glances at one of the
world’s largest casinos, in nearby Ledyard,
Connecticut, West Warwick pols teamed
with Harrah’s to develop a Narragansett Indian
casino (defeated in multiple referenda).
Most recently, plans for a “destination-resort indoor
water park” were floated.
(Progress on that slowed appreciably in the state
legislature when rumors swirled that
it was really an FBI sting operation, thereby
seriously impairing its graft potential.)
With economic downturns often come fire and arson,
and West Warwick was not
spared their ravages. From the destruction of
the Roger Williams mill in 1821 to the
Crompton Mills fire in 1992, the town saw one
spectacular blaze after another. In fact,
following one such fire, a West Warwick neighborhood
was renamed Phenix, after the
mythological bird that rose from the ashes.
A mill fire is a sight to behold. With foot-
thick timbers and floors marinated in
decades of machine oil, old textile mills burn with
ferocious intensity, producing inky
smoke visible for miles. Many such West
Warwick fires had human help. In the 1990s
a string of twenty unsolved arson fires plagued
the town, creating a persistent feeling
of unease among its residents.
In a place the size of West Warwick, there’s a
fine line between business-as-usual
among old friends, and outright corruption. When
members of the same family
69. populate multiple municipal departments, opportunities
for self-dealing and nepotism
abound. A town councilman sought to negotiate
contracts with the police union — of
which his son was a member. A school
committee member pressured a principal to
hire his son as a teacher. A departing mayor
illegally paid himself $15,000 in “sick
14
time and vacation pay.” Few townsfolk were shocked.
Nor has its fire department been immune from
West Warwick’s brand of
opportunism. In 1977, a firefighter in the
department helped his diner-owning cousin
dynamite a competing Warwick restaurant. The
next year, two town councilmen
running for reelection promised a forty-one-year-
old campaign worker a firefighter’s
job, even though town policy barred hiring recruits
over age twenty-eight. In 1980, a
battalion chief was convicted of arson
conspiracy for delaying the department’s
response to a “successful” fire at a friend’s
warehouse. Later, in 1996, an obese
firefighter sought retirement on a disability pension
when he could no longer fit into
his boots. This, in a fire department of
sixty-five employees. It takes a lot to raise
eyebrows here.
In February of 2003 there sat in the
70. southeast corner of West Warwick, at 211
Cowesett Avenue, a small roadhouse that had
seen many different incarnations over
the decades. During World War II it had been
the Wheel, a navy bar catering to rowdy
sailors from Quonset Point. Later, it was reborn
as the Red Fox, the Cedar Acres Inn,
and Tammany Hall (reportedly, bullet holes in
the beer cooler attested to its rough-
and-tumble crowd). The wood-frame building was
modified from year to year and
from owner to owner, often with materials of dubious
quality and origin. A suspicious
fire scarred its interior in 1971, but despite
fuel containers later found in the dining
area, no arrests were made.
Raymond Villanova bought the building in 1974 and
operated one of three “P. Brillo
and Sons” Italian restaurants there until
1982, peddling “spaghetti by the pound” to
Rhode Islanders hungry for bargain eats. The success
of “Papa Brillo’s” was to be the
building’s “highest and best use,” in real estate
parlance. All subsequent tenancies
were short-lived, alcohol-based, and downscale by
comparison.
By the mid-’80s Villanova, his reputation as
an aggressive businessman well
established, found commercial real estate
development to be more profitable and less
demanding than his restaurants. The dingy single-
level building at 211 Cowesett
Avenue became just one of his many holdings,
rented to a succession of hapless
71. entrepreneurs willing to sign onerous “as-is” leases
under which Villanova had no
obligation whatsoever to maintain or repair the
building. Developer Villanova’s
management of the property on Cowesett Avenue
consisted primarily of collecting
overdue rents and seeking property tax reductions
for the deteriorating property. If he
ever visited the building after 1995, his Rolls-Royce
would hardly have blended in.
The dubious allure of operating a marginal bar
attracted a parade of renters who
changed the club’s name, made low-budget
renovations, and more often than not
ended up begging off their lease with
Villanova and selling their “business” to the
next, and greater, entrepreneurial fool. After
Brillo’s came, variously, Glenn’s Pub,
then CrackerJack’s, then the Filling Station. In late
1995, Howard Julian rose to the
challenge.
Julian liked rock music. A guitar player of
sorts, he found the prospect of rubbing
(and bending) elbows with musicians too attractive to
pass up. So he bought the
restaurant-turned-pub-turned-rock-club from Skip
Shogren, signing an “as-is” lease
with Villanova’s realty company. The “Filling
Station” name combined an automotive
15
72. theme with, perhaps, a wishful allusion to
anticipated drink sales. From its prior
owner
Julian inherited not only the club’s name but
also a clientele, several employees, and
its manager, Tim Arnold. He was also heir to the
building’s prior brushes with fire. A
tradesman changing a lightbulb for Julian once reached
into the ceiling space. “All the
rafters were charcoaled,” he said. “I put my hand on
it, it was black.”
Another thing that Julian’s club shared with its
predecessor on the site was the
animosity of its neighbors. The area of Cowesett
Avenue and Kulas Road in West
Warwick was, to put it most charitably, mixed
use. (Comprehensive zoning was never
the town’s strong suit.) Across Cowesett
Avenue from the Filling Station was a
restaurant, the Cowesett Inn. Across Kulas Road
from the club, an auto dealership. To
the club’s west lay a wooded lot. To its
immediate south, less than a hundred feet
from
the club itself, the property of one Barry Warner
marked the beginning of a residential
plat. Over the years, as tastes in musical volume
came to surpass fans’ pain thresholds,
it was inevitable that neighbors would
complain about the noise. And Warner
frequently led the charge.
Each time successive owners sought transfer of
liquor and entertainment licenses at
the site, Warner and others would complain to
73. the town council of overcrowding,
parking lot disturbances, and, invariably, the loud,
bass-pounding music. And each
would-be impresario, including Julian, would
promise the council new measures to
fight the noise: performing volume checks; keeping
the door nearest Warner’s house
tightly shut; installing noise-dampening materials.
One application of soundproofing material occurred in
the early summer of 1996.
The Filling Station’s manager, Tim Arnold, observed
Julian screwing white plastic
foam blocks to the walls of the drummer’s
alcove at the center of the stage. They
were
seventeen-inch-square, two-inch-thick blocks of stiff
foam, each the consistency of
“swimming pool noodles.” Julian applied 192 square
feet of the stuff to the alcove’s
three walls. It is unclear where he obtained
this plastic foam; however, this was not the
last time that materials of questionable quality would
compromise the building at 211
Cowesett Avenue.
Notwithstanding Julian’s parsimony, his club formula
was still a bust. By late 1999,
he was resorting to gimmicks like karaoke, mud
wrestling, and male stripper nights to
stay afloat. A video shot at the club (which by
then had been renamed, simply, The
Station) captured Julian onstage with the featured
act, engrossed in fish-faced guitar
noodling. Heady as such moments must have been for
him, they did not pay the rent.
74. Almost four years into his venture, Julian still
owed purchase money to prior owner
Skip Shogren. In arrears to his landlord by over
$40,000 in February 2000, Julian, like
so many before him, sought a buyer for
his failing business. He implored his landlord
not to tip any prospective buyer to the fact
that months of unpaid back rent (as well as
the balance of his debt to Shogren) would be
escrowed from any purchase closing. “I
firmly believe that if the amount of rent in
rears [sic] is disclosed, the potential buyer
will be scared away,” wrote Julian to
Villanova.
One potential purchaser, Al Prudhomme, played
drums with a local band, Fathead,
and was a regular at the club. He dearly wanted
to buy it from Julian, but his wife,
Charlene, “just wouldn’t go for it.” He would one
day thank her.
Julian’s potential salvation arrived in December
1999, in the persons of two
thirtyish brothers, Michael and Jeffrey Derderian.
Native Rhode Islanders, the
16
Derderians were, respectively, a businessman
and a reporter for a Boston TV station.
They hardly blended with The Station’s blue-collar
clientele (one of the bar’s denizens
later described them as sporting “Wally Cleaver
75. haircuts”); however, they were
sufficiently bitten by the club-owner bug as to
seriously consider buying Julian’s
business.
It could not have been the ramshackle building
that attracted the Derderians. And,
yet, standing inside facing west toward the stage,
the brothers must have entertained
grand visions for the dingy space. The stage
itselfwas a platform, approximately two
feet higher than the dance floor area. Another six
inches above that sat the drummer’s
alcove, a bump-out on the club’s exterior wall. To
the right of the stage was the only
door on the building’s west or south sides. This
“stage door” was used to …
CON E 101 – Construction & Culture
Spring 2020
Instructor: Thais Alves
Individual Book Report Assignment
Date assigned: 2/5/2020
Due date: 3/27/2020 by 10 AM
Instructions:
• Each student will be assigned one of the four
books listed on the syllabus.
76. • The individual book report should be submitted
via Blackboard/TurnitIn under
Assignments>Individual
Book Report Submission.
• Use your own words to answer the questions
and when using citations (e.g., definitions,
quotes) make sure
to add references (where the citations are coming
from) and add your comments to explain the
answer.
Read the book assigned to you on the group
discussion board. You will read one of the
four books about fires in
structures, covering a wide range of time. Upon
completion of the book (and no later than March
27, 2020 at 10
AM) submit a word document using
Blackboard>Assignments>Individual Book Report
Submission, according to
the following guidelines. Use the naming convention
LASTNAMEbookreport.doc (docx or docm
are also OK).
Be sure that your report answers the following
questions:
1. WHAT BOOK did you read (give a full
bibliographic citation, attach after report as an
appendix)?
2. WHAT HAPPENED in this book? WHAT was
built, WHERE, WHEN? Give a short
77. summary of the
structure(s)/city part/city and its intended functioning.
3. WHAT were the impacts of the fire? How did it
impact the lives of people at the location
where the fire
happened? How did it impact the structure of
the building, the city/State where it occurred?
4. WHAT were the most important factors that led to
the fire and loss of lives? Consider human
and social
aspects of the decisions made, existing
laws/regulations/requirements in place at the
time of the fire,
business practices, ethics.
5. WHAT lessons did you learn from this book?
How do they relate to existing buildings and
building
codes? How are these lessons used to design, build,
and operate current buildings?
6. HOW did the built environment influence survival in
positive and negative ways? HOW innovative
was
the design of this particular structure(s), in terms
of its methods and/or materials of construction,
in
terms of its environmental social impacts, and in
terms of its use? Did it function in the
way in which it
was intended?
7. Did YOU like this book? Would you recommend
78. it to others? Produce a review of it as
an object of
entertainment, perhaps using a review of a
book in a magazine or newspaper as an
example.
I expect that you will submit this information in
a 6-8-page written report (not counting any
front or back
matter). You should use space-and-a-half, 12-point
Times New Roman font, 1-inch margins
all around.
Number your pages. Spelling, grammar, and presentation
will be graded.
SUGGESTED OUTLINE (The report should have
headings for each section, as suggested below, do
not write
using an essay format)
Front matter (cover page with your name and
title of the book + additional page with the table of
contents)
Introduction – include a brief summary and a
hint as to your key observations. (This is a
summary of your
report, not the description of the book, which
will go in the next section)
Description – include item 2 above.
79. Impacts of the Fire – include item 3 above.
Most important factors influencing the fire and lessons
learned – include item 4 above.
Relationship to builders’ place and time – include
items 5 and 6 above.
Conclusions, to include your thoughts on, for
example, whether a similar fire might happen
today, and if so,
how the design, construction, and use of similar
structures might be approached differently
today, and any
particularly interesting thoughts or observations
you have preventing a fire.
Back matter, including a reference list with complete
bibliographic records for any sources including
the
book you read, your review (item 7 above), and
any other relevant information you wish to
include.
ANTECIPATED RUBRIC
F (59 and below) – The report is not turned
in, or is turned in before the due
date/time without answering
the guiding questions in a way that they can be
found. There is little evidence that the writer
read the
assignment. The report is written in an
unprofessional tone and/or with so many errors
in English spelling
80. and grammar, and/or in fact, that it cannot be
understood. The writer makes no effort to
help the reader find
things with things such as an accurate table of
content, section headings, etc.
D (60-69) – The report is turned in before
the due date/time. Of the seven guiding
questions, only 1-3 are
answered clearly and well, in a way that they can be
found. The report is mostly written in a
professional
tone, with many errors in English spelling and
grammar. Some concepts introduced or
reviewed in the class
are correctly used, but there are several errors in
fact or areasleft incomplete. In spite of these
problems,
the report can still be generally followed. Some
efforts to guide the reader are provided.
The report is
shorter than the minimum length or violates format
to expand a shorter work.
C (70-79) – The report is turned in before
the due date/time. Of the seven guiding
questions, only 4-5 are
answered clearly and well, in a way that they can be
found. The report is written in a
professional tone, with
few errors in English spelling and grammar. There
are minor errors in fact or areasleft
incomplete, but for
the most part the concepts introduced or reviewed in
81. the class are correctly used. The report
addresses the
questions asked, but evidences little beyond the
minimum effort required, and the report, while
complete, is
boring and/or overlong. It is possible to find
things easily via guidance provided to the
reader.
B (80-89) – The report is turned in before
the due date/time. Of the seven guiding
questions, all are
answered clearly and well, in a way that they can be
found. The report is written in a
professional tone, with
rare errors in English spelling and grammar. There
are no errors in fact or areasleft incomplete.
The report
addresses the questions asked, with some evidence of
effort to understand the subject and convey
it to the
reader. Ideas presented in the book are related to
corresponding ideasfrom the classroom.
A (90-100) - The report is turned in before
the due date/time. Of the seven guiding
questions, all are
answered clearly and well, in a way that they can be
found. The report is written in a
professional tone, with
only one or two errors in English spelling and
grammar. There are no errors in fact or
areasleft incomplete.
The report addresses the questions asked and goes
82. beyond by evidencing interest in the subject
additional
research into the event and is interesting and
engaging to read. Very specific concepts from
the class are
applied to the reading in new ways, and/or
original examples are used to illustrate concepts
from the reading.
The report is well organized and clear.
CON E 101 – Construction & Culture
Instructor: Thais Alves
Checklist for individual book report
Please note that this is a checklist to help you finalize your
report according to the guidelines provided in
the prompt. Follow the instructions in the prompt and use this to
avoid the most common mistakes that I
observed in previous report submissions and by talking to some
of you about your reports.
FORMAT
The report is written 1.5 line spacing
The margins of the report are 1” margins
83. The font size is 12-point Times New Roman
Front matter: There is a front page with the title of the report,
name of the report author
Front matter: there is a table of contents AFTER the title page
The report is between 6 full pages and 8 pages long, excluding
the back and front matter
All references are indicated in appropriate format within the
text where they are used (Pick one
format and be consistent throughout the report. Please note the
difference between paraphrasing
and quoting, these are VERY different, and you should know
this by now, you are a college
student. Look for resources from your previous writing
courses.). Use at least five references, in
addition to the book you are writing your report about, to
support your arguments and analysis..
Back matter: all references used to produce the report are listed
in appropriate referencing
format. (Please note that this list includes references used
within the text to support your report
and the discussion.)
The questions shown in the prompt are NOT included in the
report. (Do NOT repeat the questions of the prompt, use titles
that are descriptive of the section.)
The pages are numbered.
CONTENT
84. Headings are used to indicate the sections answering questions
2 through 7 of the prompt.
The answers present the facts from the book you read and your
own interpretation and analysis
of the book content. (Answers that just repeat the book content,
without your own interpretation,
are considered not responsive.)
The answers are NOT written as bullet points or single/isolated
paragraphs that are not
connected. (Answers that just list the contents of each book in
paragraphs or bullet points will be
considered not responsive to this assignment.)
The report is free of plagiarism and references are used when
appropriate.
The document is free of spelling mistakes and written in
appropriate language for a technical report.