Ubiñas: Family of the Market Street collapse contractor tells their story

I'VE BEEN ASKING myself for awhile now if I should risk a column on Griffin Campbell, the contractor behind bars for the deadly June 2013 building collapse on Market Street.

I don't want him to appear overly deserving of our sympathy when six families are still mourning the loved ones they lost on that day.

But other families are also feeling the pain, and that includes Campbell's.

First let me say Campbell, even beyond his involvement in the collapse, has lived a life that has hardly been a model. That he had caused problems before, for himself and his family.

I first met Campbell's tight-knit family at one of his many court appearances since his arrest just before Thanksgiving, 2013. They wore T-shirts with his picture that read, "Griffin Campbell: The Fall Guy."

It was a sentiment I shared - to a point. As I've written on several occasions, Campbell isn't the only one who should be held accountable for the building collapse. And it's more than curious that the only people answering for their part in the avoidable tragedy so far are those with the least amount of money and clout. But no one gets a pass for creating a killing zone.

A few weeks before Christmas, on Dec. 2, I found myself sitting in Campbell's mother's North Philadelphia living room. His mom, Antoinette Chisolm, 73, was surrounded by Campbell's stepfather James Chisolm, Campbell's high-school sweetheart and wife of 31 years, Kim Campbell, and one of their four daughters, Amella Campbell, 21.

From the start, they wanted to make clear that they weren't trying to diminish anyone else's pain by sharing their own.

"What happened that day was an accident, a tragic accident," Amella said. "But my father isn't a murderer. He didn't wake up that morning and say, 'I'm going to go knock this building down on top of the Salvation Army and ruin people's lives.' It was an accident."

I'm not going to get into that. The courts will figure that out. But this much isn't debatable:

On June 5, 2013, a four-story brick wall from the building whose demolition Campbell was overseeing toppled onto the Salvation Army store next door. Six people were killed and a dozen injured, including a woman who lost both of her legs. A seventh person died three weeks after the collapse.

One week after the collapse, the L&I inspector on the job, Ronald Wagenhoffer, killed himself.

Campbell's wife, Kim, was driving when he called her to say the building had collapsed.

"He was distraught," she said. "I've never heard him so hurt in my life. He said something like, 'The building collapsed. I need you to come down here right now.' "

When she got there, there were cameras everywhere. Detectives were talking to Campbell.

"It was like everything was moving in slow motion," she said. "It was unbelievable. At first they were saying nobody was in the building, so that was a sigh of relief, but . . . "

She stops and for several seconds everyone in the room goes silent.

"It was devastating."

Kim said moments before the collapse, Campbell told her he was talking to building owner Richard Basciano and his wife, both of whom he had just met that day.

"He said when he saw Basciano's wife's eyes get huge, he turned around and the wall was coming down."

Hours later, as the body count rose, Campbell couldn't stop watching the television coverage of the collapse.

"He couldn't stop," Amella said. "All he kept saying was 'I wish it was me instead of them. I wish it was me instead of them.'

"I've never in my whole life seen my dad cry. For me to see that, you don't know what to do, you don't KNOW what to say. How do I console my dad who consoled me my whole life? Protected me from everything, how do I protect him?"

About a year before the building collapse, Campbell had realized his dream of having his own business. After years of learning on the job, working for other people, and fantasizing about the day he'd be his own boss, he started his own company. And then he got the Market Street job.

"He was excited," Kim said, "We were all excited about it. He thought he finally was going to make a name for himself. This was supposed be his big break."

She said Campbell wanted to expand his business, and hire guys who needed a second chance - guys he could relate to. In 2009, Campbell pleaded guilty to theft and insurance fraud. Records also show that Campbell had filed for Chapter 13 bankruptcy protection and owed thousands in unpaid city business taxes and state and federal taxes.

"We're not trying to paint him as a saint," his mother, Antoinette, said. "But he wanted it to be used for the good, to show people that have been in trouble that they can turn their life around."

Kim was shopping for Thanksgiving dinner on the day he called to tell her he had to turn himself in, charged with multiple counts of third-degree murder and related crimes. He and crane operator, Sean Benschop, who was similarly charged, remain in prison without bail. They are the only two who have been charged so far.

"I didn't even pay for my stuff," Kim said. "I just left and I went home to be with him."

Since Campbell turned himself in on Nov. 25, 2013, the family said their lives have been a blur of court appearances and jailhouse visits at the maximum-security Philadelphia Industrial Correctional Center.

Kim works for a van service for autistic children that she says doesn't even begin to cover their bills. She said tenants for some properties they owned stopped paying rent once they saw Campbell was in prison. His daughter Amella had to quit a medical training program. She's looking for a job. The family has a defense fund to pay for Campbell's legal fees.

"I feel like we're being cheated," said Amella. "I have a nephew who looks up to him so much. That's his father figure. All you hear is 'Pop-Pop.' Who else do we have to look up to? Who else is going to show him how to be a man and the right decisions to make?"

Griffin Campbell is not a sympathetic figure. He is paying a price for his involvement in a disaster that cost innocent people their lives and left their families broken and grieving.

But Campbell's family deserves some sympathy, or at the least to have their story told.

Kim says she tries to stay positive. "But the reality is that it is bad and we don't have the money for the big lawyers, so it seems like the [judicial system] could do whatever they want."

Campbell's mother, Antoinette, a religious woman, prays. "When I pray for my son, I pray for all the people who lost someone, all the people affected. God knows our heart. He knows that when we cry for Griffin, we cry for them too."

Phone: 215-854-5943

On Twitter: @NotesFromHel