I Like Old Buildings

They have so much in them

I’m writing this from a loft in an old warehouse in downtown Salt Lake City. I’m just starting a long weekend with the whole family in Salt Lake City. It is unusual for all of us to be together when it’s not a holiday. We probably need to do it more. The years are coming faster. But let’s see how the weekend goes. Can family connect without a turkey or a prime rib roast? This has yet to be proven.

But I digress.

I’m writing this from an Airbnb in downtown SLC. I’ve shared my love-hate thing about AirBnBs in the past. This place is great because it is comfortable and so well located, just a few hundred yards from my son’s loft. But beyond that, it is extra cool because it is old. This area was warehouses back in the early days of SLC. It has bricks and beams and random ductwork. The long, dark hallway past the units even has a light that blinks on and off randomly.

Sitting here, looking out the windows, over new and old buildings at the snow-covered mountains, I just get a feeling. It is not this city in particular, although this is where my mother was born, where my Grandfather taught anatomy, and where my son got his degrees and now works. It is old buildings in general that I like.

And, a quick note for anyone reading this who does not live in the western US. Old for us is 100 years. Most of what I consider “old” is early frontier through mid-century modern. But my recent trip to Key West and recent stop in San Juan, Puerto Rico, let me experience even older places.

But I digress.

I almost got into a car accident earlier in the week because I drove past the Tempe Tavern, a cow barn built from stone in 1918 that has been a bar for as long as I can remember. It is not attractive by any stretch of artistic imagination. But it was old, so it pulled me in and took my eyes off the truck that slowed to turn in front of me.

The other night, I heard David Sedaris speak at the Orpheum Theater, a vaudeville-era theater built in 1928. Its history and feel added so much to his snarky, funny, and honest writing. Inspired, I then headed down the street to Cornish Pasty for a very late dinner, a few beers, and some writing past 1:00 am. Even though it was packed full of young people, I reveled in sitting under the old beams and looking at the brick walls.

So why this thing about old buildings?

I love modern and slick, clean and efficient. I live in the suburbs for a reason. I shouldn’t like old buildings, but I do. And, after spending way too much time thinking about it, I think it is the aesthetics and the history. Take the exposed brick wall next to me, or the worn oak plank floors under me. They are not particularly pretty, but they have a texture and depth that modern floors and walls lack.

And then there is the history. I love to let my mind wander back and wonder at what might have happened in an older space. What did the warehouse house? Did my grandmother buy something that was stored here? Did a pair of workers sneak into a corner of what is now this condominium and have a passionate kiss? Did a young man stare at these same mountains 70 years ago and dream of a different future? How long did this structure stand empty?

I’ll never know the answers to these questions, but there is something about me that is drawn to the history and the depth held in the structure.

Don’t get me wrong, I would never live in a place like this. The floor slopes, the hallways are dark and smelly, the layout is incredibly inefficient, and downtown is noisy and has people.

I’m looking forward to spending time in more old buildings.