Two years after Surfside condo collapse, oldest victim's grandson writes about an "Uncollapsable Soul"
The devastating collapse of the Champlain Towers South condominium building in the Miami suburb of Surfside, Florida, two years ago resulted in the loss of 98 lives and became one of the deadliest collapses in U.S. history, leaving families shattered. Among those directly affected is Michael Noriega, who lost his grandmother, Hilda, in the collapse.
As the enormity of the loss sinks in, Noriega reflected on the profound impact it has had on his life and the lives of others by writing the book "Uncollapsible Soul."
In "Uncollapsible Soul," Noriega explores the journey of navigating a broken heart without allowing it to overpower your spirit.
"A broken heart is just a season of grieving. We all go through loss. But a crushed spirit, that's something completely different. A crushed spirit is where you lose your faith, your hope and your purpose," Noriega said.
Hilda Noriega, affectionately known as "Chema" to her grandson, was 92 years old and the oldest victim of the tragic incident. Noriega described the aftermath as "surreal," and said the collapse left both a hole in the physical sense and in his heart.
"To look at that crater in the earth just to see emptiness. That's how it feels in the heart. And it just kind of leaves a hole in your soul."
Noriega said losing Hilda Noriega has showed him how difficult grief can be.
"I mean, yes, I lost my grandmother, and she was the matriarch of our family. But to see how much bigger that it is, how much bigger the losses and the heartbreak goes has been so eye-opening for me," Noriega said.
Noriega said the last conversation he had with his grandmother on the day of the collapse was a short one.
"I had called her that day, and we were talking, and somebody came and knocked on her front door; I could hear it through the phone," he said. "She ended the phone call like this: 'Mikey, there's somebody at the door. I'm calling you back, I'm calling you back. Bye-bye.' And she hung up, and those were our last words.
"And that broke my heart because every phone call I ever remember with her, same thing: 'I love you, Chema.' 'I love you more.' And I missed out on those last two opportunities for that," he said.
The impact of Hilda Noriega's loss extends far beyond her role as a grandmother. She played an integral part in Michael Noriega's life, often serving as a second mother due to his parents' work as first responders. He is now left with memories of spending days and weekends at his grandparents' home, highlighting the deep bond they both shared.
A devout Catholic, Hilda Noriega's body was found in the rubble, clutching her rosary beads. For Noriega, this detail carries profound meaning.
"That's what she would use to pray with," he said. "And to think that in my grandmother's final moments of life, that she fell asleep in prayer was such a powerful thing."
The rosary beads were returned to Noriega's family, and now serve as a reminder of her faith and the legacy of love she left behind.
"There's a quote that I love that says an inheritance is what you leave behind for someone, but a legacy is what you leave behind in someone. And these rosaries were tangible representations of the legacy that she left behind of love," he said.
Throughout this ordeal, Noriega discovered an intriguing aspect: that pain can generate passion.
"You know, something interesting that I learned through this whole process is a byproduct of pain is passion," he said."How do you know if you're passionate about something? You're willing to suffer for it."
