Last night I finally took some time to see and document the charred remains of the Provo Tabernacle. When my mom called Friday morning to tell me it was on fire, I thought that someone had died. In some ways that insulated me from the feelings of loss that this damaged structure symbolizes to so many in the community. After the initial flood of relief that everyone in the family was OK I tried to block out the sadness that one of my favorite buildings was destroyed. Sometimes, like many, I try to protect myself from loss. So I figured if I didn't drive by and see it, perhaps it wouldn't feel like it had actually happened. Of course, I couldn't really keep myself away. Last night when I finally decided it was worth the drive to hit up the Fresh Market for some orange juice and thermometer filters, my camera practically begged me to check out its capabilities on a night scene. So off we went, sore throat and all, to say goodbye to an old friend.I have so many fond memories in this building. I performed there, my mom performed there, we listened to beautiful music and inspired words there. I distracted my brothers from dropping stuff on the people below while they slid around on those long wooden benches during stake conference. As a teenager I developed a serious crush on "Nephi" while sitting on one of those elegant benches and I went back to see him perform as many times as I could while the play was running. My friend Shayla introduced me to Xtempo there, back when we were learning how to flirt with boys and still too young to drive. One time I went to see a silent film with my mom. She was laughing so hard that everyone around her couldn't stop laughing and pretty soon the entire bench starting shaking which just made us laugh harder. Another time she let me stay up until midnight on Christmas Eve to attend the "Messiah Sing In." Yep, a whole lot of good, fun, memories, were created in that gorgeous building.
Now it looks sad to me.
Friday night, before drifting off to sleep, I lay in bed remembering every detail that I possibly could about that building; taking mental pictures of that which is no more. I was surprised at how many details I could recall.
The pattern in the carpet
The cream colored linoleum in the choir seats and the tap, tap of my dress shoes as I made my way to my seat
The large stained glass windows and the way they would filter the morning sun
The stained wood of the window frames which is one of my favorite features of any old building in provo
The coat closets in the back of the building
The rounded staircases
The light fixtures and curve of the ceiling
All of the intricate woodwork and the curve of the banister
The mint green color of the paint
The pipe organ
Even the angle of the floor.
From the outside, I especially loved the color of the brick on a warm sunny morning. Something about it just seemed pleasant and warm. Last night it was hard to reconcile that memory with the darkened, mournful outline of the building. Perhaps it will be re-built. I hope so. I'd like that warm, sunny piece of Provo back again
