Elevator As Deathtrap

If I am killed by an elevator, it will be the elevators in FTC Headquarters. I'm not sure exactly when the building was constructed, but it was sometime during the term of Secretary of the Treasury Henry Morganthau (1934-1945). The echo-chamber marble hallways and anonymous offices bespeak of some distant, pre-war bureaucratic past, as do the elevators.

The door sensors are not well-calibrated to stop closing when there's an obstruction, which always reminds me of the guy who got decapitated in Houston. The elevators are wood-paneled, and the initial drop is at stomach-jumping, nearly weightless speeds, and I wonder whether if I jumped at the last second if I could avoid crushing in the event of a falling elevator. I'm always a little suspicious that the doors will open into an open shaft, resulting in the embarrasing police report: fell down an open elevator shaft.

At any rate, I'm not expecting to be killed by an elevator, but if it happens, that'll be the one that gets me.