Misdirection

So many stories about this place. So many beautiful things it once held.

So sad that I missed the boat.

What’s left of the beautiful, historic, romantic, holy Divine Lorraine Hotel is a mere shadow of herself. Depending on your point of view, this is either a good thing or a bad thing. If I had never seen photos of the inside of it from less than a year ago I would not have this empty feeling inside of me now. But I have, and I waited, and while I am not ungrateful for the eventual opportunity to see her, I feel like all of my enthusiasm has been scraped out of me like those iron bathtubs and still-made beds.

The historic relics from inside have been auctioned off over the last year, though many of these artifacts are still being sold today. For example, just down the street from the hotel lies a salvage shop that sells pieces of the building to the public (if you know where to look) as well as antiques from other estates around the area. The shop is fascinating: more than just a junk shop or a thrift store, one can find old iron pillars and entire mahogany information desks, iron fireplace grilles and toilets and pedestal sinks and plaster chips and signage… even dishware and lamps that were pulled from historic buildings undergoing renovation. For anyone who enjoys flavors of the past and old architecture, it is heaven. I was so caught up dreaming about the layers and layers of time and the people who had touched and lived around these objects, I didn’t even hear the artsy young proprietor hitting on me until I heard Trav say “I don’t care, dude – that’s a compliment to me.” How sweet! But time was ticking and my fingers were itching to hit a shutter button.



We had precisely 1 hour to get in and get out. Ouch. 10 flights of stairs didn’t bother me, but the 10 stories of explorable photographic potential did. Fortunately, the renovation process minimized any need to stop and photograph anything below the 10th floor. The auditorium and the church at the top were, to me, an embarrassing mess. I had seen photos of the rows of chairs, before any of the furniture was stripped and moved and before the yellow-caged work lights went up in plastic hooks along the walls. I was looking forward so much to finally seeing this place, and now I felt empty and uncomfortable. A violator.

The walk down the stairs was largely silent.

I fully appreciate what the Divine Lorraine will one day be: an amazing living space for a new generation of people looking to be just outside the heart of downtown. Imagine the stories that will forever live in her walls! I especially am grateful to those who allowed us to peek in, artists of different backgrounds who really have no earthly right to be there. I came seeking something, perhaps the spiritual or creative enlightenment that Father Divine sought to provide to his guests, but I feel that the very essence of his manifesto was lost amongst the relics of the junk shop. However, the poetry of the afternoon cannot be missed, that all of us - musician, art student, developer, parent, playboy, hobbyist, or tech geek – were brought together as equals because of our desire to see Lorraine.

Perhaps this is the true spirit of Father Divine… and all that really matters.