HOW TO REBUILD A HIGHWAY IN 12 DAYS

The engineering ingenuity that turned the fiery collapse of one of I-95's busiest stretches into a Philly-style comeback miracle.

- BY MITCH MOXLEY

IN the predawn hour of June 11, 2023, Nathaniel "Nate" Moody steered his 18-wheeler northbound on Interstate 95 in northeast Philadelphia. The 53-year-old Army veteran, with cropped, graying hair and a wide smile, had driven a truck for a decade and owned his own rig. He was local to the Philly area, married with three children. That morning, he had a routine job: delivering 8,500 gallons of gasoline to a nearby Wawa station.

But as Moody navigated the exit onto westbound Cottman Avenue, he lost control of the vehicle on a turn near the end of the exit. The tanker flipped onto its side and skidded to a halt directly under a section of I-95. The crash ruptured the tank, and sparks ignited the gasoline. The truck exploded. A massive fireball shot into the sky, followed by billowing plumes of black smoke. Moody died instantly.

In no time, an inferno overtook the truck, reaching temperatures as high as 2,500 degrees Fahrenheit. The fire under I-95 acted like a barbecue grill, holding the heat and cooking the steel girders beneath the roadway. In less than 15 minutes, the beams began to buckle until they failed.

A 104-foot-long, four-lane stretch of I-95 collapsed onto Cottman Avenue, setting off a chain of events—requiring unprecedented cooperation between the government and private contractors and filled with handshake agreements, round-the-clock work, engineering ingenuity, and a determination to get the job done fast—that led to one of the most dramatic, high-stakes construction jobs in modern American history.

FOR OFFICIALS FROM THE PENNSYLVANIA Department of Transportation, work was the last thing on their minds that morning. June 11 was a Sunday, two weeks after Memorial Day weekend, the holiday that morphed into the unofficial start of summer. It was also supposed to be the hottest day that week, reaching nearly 90 degrees Fahrenheit. Some swapped the city heat for beach breezes an hour's drive away at the Jersey Shore.