The chaos that unfolded at Columbia University’s Hamilton Hall on April 30 wasn’t just another campus protest. It was a terrifying ordeal that left one custodian, Mario Torres, caught in the crossfire and fearing for his safety—and his job.
Torres, a hardworking father of two, was on duty when the mob descended on the historic building. What he encountered was beyond anything he could have imagined—a scene straight out of a nightmare. Rioters armed with rope, duct tape, masks, and gloves stormed the hall, leaving chaos and destruction in their wake.
As glass shattered and barricades went up, Torres found himself face to face with one of the protesters, James Carlson, who The Post revealed to be the privileged son of millionaire ad execs. In a moment of sheer panic, Torres grappled with Carlson, managing to expose his identity before making a harrowing escape.
But the trauma of that day lingers for Torres. He’s haunted by the memory of the violence and the fear that he may lose his job for speaking out against the university’s failures to protect its staff. And his concerns are not unfounded—after all, who would want to employ someone who dares to shine a light on their shortcomings?
Torres’s story is a stark reminder of the real-world consequences of campus unrest. While students and activists may come and go, it’s the custodians, the blue-collar workers, who bear the brunt of the chaos. And yet, they’re often the ones who are overlooked and neglected when the dust settles.
As Torres grapples with his uncertain future, one thing is clear: Columbia University has failed its workers. The lack of protection, the absence of support—it’s a betrayal of the highest order. And until the university takes real action to right these wrongs, the scars of that fateful day will continue to linger.
