Despite all the planning, hard work, and best efforts of talented people, sometimes things still go wrong. After all, in an industry as complex and demanding as ours, where thousands of details have to come together perfectly for every show, the unforeseen is bound to happen. And the unforeseen struck for my company and our client on what seemed to be a normal Thursday morning.

My firm, Mirror Show Management, was managing a program for a new client, and on this fateful Thursday, its new property was en route from our upstate New York offices, through Pennsylvania, and to a trade show at New York's Jacob K. Javits Convention Center. The show was set to open Sunday, and the shipment was on a brand-new truck operated by one of our most trusted shipping partners. With several ace on-site supervisors in the field, we were staying on top of things from our home office.

On that Thursday morning, as the office staff associated with the project arrived to work as usual, they naturally assumed we'd soon receive confirmation that the truck bearing the shipment had been unloaded at Javits. Early that morning, however, our shipping manager received a call from the transportation company that included the one word that nobody in our industry wants to hear: fire.

Our shipping manager quickly called the team together to relay the news. Apparently, somewhere near the outskirts of Valley Forge, PA, the brakes on the truck carrying the shipment had overheated. It wasn't long before the tires caught fire, which ultimately spread to most of the trailer.

Incredibly, the main trailer doors had been soldered shut by the extreme heat, keeping the transportation company from evaluating the contents, although they sent photos of the damage. We knew that the truck was carrying several graphic panels, carpet, cabinets, monitors, and the exhibit's focal point: a large fabric sign, all of which were vulnerable to damage from smoke, water, and fire. We knew that almost everything in the truck would have some type of smoke damage and that the graphics would be melted or warped.

We figured we had to get started replacing many if not all of these items. But after we received the initial photos, communication from our transportation reps paused as they worked to sort everything out. We remained patient for about four hours, hoping to get a full list of what was torched beyond repair, what might be salvaged, and what — if anything — was undamaged. We notified our client and assured her that we would get her booth rebuilt in time.

By noon, we had no more information, but decided it was go time. So we gathered the team and created a list of everything we were certain had been damaged, along with a list of things we couldn't yet see that most likely had been affected. Next, the team began reprinting all the graphics and ordered a new hanging sign.

And it was a good thing we did. Reps finally managed to extract the properties from the truck, haul them to a warehouse, unpack everything, and send us photos of what remained. The graphics had indeed melted, and the carpet was toast. Most of the cabinets and monitors seemed to be intact, albeit covered in a thick coat of soot. The sign looked like it had been packed really well, and as such, it might not have been damaged. But we decided to create a new one just in case. The rep informed us that the components were now on a new truck making its way to Javits.

While our in-house team completed work on the graphics and sign, we contacted our supervisor at Javits to secure new carpet for the booth. Everyone worked through the night to get everything completed and on another truck headed to Javits in the wee morning hours of Friday. Now it was up to our on-site staff. Thankfully, they didn't disappoint.

By 9 a.m., the new carpet was installed. Then the graphics and sign arrived. All of the salvaged properties rolled in around midday. And the sign was still viable. As expected, everything — panels, cabinets, monitors, even the power strips — was covered with fine black soot. And the exhibitry reeked like burned toast.

The on-site crew knew that they were going to need some serious supplies to “de-soot” and deodorize the booth. So off they ran to a nearby home-improvement store to get gallons of lacquer thinner, which would act like a degreaser for the soot, plus countless bottles of Febreze and boxes of baking soda to address the smoke odor. Working through the night, the team meticulously cleaned every inch of the booth and completed the installation by 2 p.m. Saturday.

Once the show opened the next day, crew members turned their attention to getting the property back home again. Most of the crates and cases were either melted or covered in ashy residue, rendering them unusable. So they decided to pad wrap and skid wrap everything. They ordered the materials through the shipping company, which was more than happy to oblige.

When all was said and done, the booth looked exactly as the client expected, and there was enough insurance coverage to mitigate the cost of the damage. Nobody, including attendees with a super “sniffer,” so to speak, could detect a hint of the trouble that nearly derailed us. The solution was so effective, in fact, that the client doubled its booth size for the show's next iteration. However, we're all hoping for an easier outing the next time around and betting that like lightning, massive truck fires don't strike twice in the same place.