When the trade show booth burned on the way to Madrid

2 min read

Image of Martin Potter next to a truck burning on the way to ERS Madrid 1999

Someone asked me recently what my most career-defining moment was. I thought about the big campaigns, the global stages, the moments where everything landed just right. But the story I kept coming back to didn’t involve an award or a standing ovation. It involved a motorway, a ruined truck and 5,000 purple teddy bears. Right at the very beginning of my career.

Madrid, 1999

It was ERS Madrid, one of the biggest European medical congresses. I was working for a small experiential agency outside London and our pharma client was preparing to unveil a new flagship exhibition system we’d spent months creating. I was the Producer with only my designer alongside me to supervise the build. Early days in my career, yet already my 30th show.

Everything was ready. The booth was bold, tactile and immersive. The planning had been smooth. The lorry had left London. The team were in Madrid and we were set.

Then, two days before show open, there was a knock at my hotel door. My designer stood there, visibly shaken.

“The booth’s on fire.” Not metaphorically. Literally.

Somewhere north of Madrid, the truck had caught fire. We drove straight out. What we found felt unreal. A scorched metal frame. Melted lighting. Blackened panels. And 5,000 purple teddy bears charred across the hard shoulder like a surreal crime scene.

I made the call you never want to make. The client listened calmly, asked a few questions, and said the four words that changed everything: “I trust you to fix it.”

Forty-eight hours of controlled chaos

We moved fast. An older booth system of ours was sitting in storage with another vendor. Not as impressive, but clean and workable. We had it shipped overnight. The team worked nonstop reconfiguring layouts, installing tech and stitching together a functioning space.

Twenty-four hours later, the booth stood. The congress opened. The activation ran smoothly. The client arrived smiling. No blame, no drama. Just a quiet nod that we’d done what needed to be done. It taught me more about trust, teamwork and creative resilience than any award ever could.

The aftermath that became a beginning

A few years later, I was in the US with Jack Morton Worldwide when my office phone rang. It was that same client. She’d moved companies, tracked me down (pre-LinkedIn, mind you), and wanted us to pitch for a major new booth.

We did and we won. You never know where a catastrophe will take you if you keep your head, act with integrity and, crucially, avoid burning bridges… even when everything around you is literally on fire.