“We have to go.”
It kind of felt like a now-or-never moment. I had been telling my friends about the hidden intricacies of Palmer, neatly tucked away rooms, and interconnected passageways, which I discovered after a dance department show. Most importantly was the enormous, never-ending staircase that was just to the right of the main stage. I had told them that while I had discovered a couple of old offices up there, I have yet to reach the top.
“I’m telling you, it just felt like it kept going higher and higher without stopping.” I had been too scared to keep climbing it because it was pitch black, and higher I climbed, the more muffled the music below me became and the less clearly I could see the next step in front of me. It felt like I was departing to somewhere past the point of no return. I just had to know what was up there before it all came tumbling down.
During the spring of 2018, the news broke that Connecticut College had received $20 million to renovate Palmer and Castle Court. Construction of the auditorium is set to begin this semester.
Now, I am not one to endorse romanticize the passing of something that really needs to curl over and die. Palmer Auditorium, with its itchy blue seats, ugly orange carpeting, and general lack of accessibility, is in dire need of a makeover. However, there is something particularly fun about reassessing something’s worth the second you’re about to lose it. Rather than mourn the death of this space, I thought I’d take the time to examine what’s about to be lost to history and memory. I mean, how many Conn students actually have had the chance to explore Palmer besides during the mandatory Orientation sessions?
So my friend and I ventured to Palmer one rainy December evening to explore what exactly we were about to lose— for better or for worse.
We entered through the side entrance, went down a hallway, and took the stairs down to the dressing room area. Boxes brimming with miscellaneous props were piled upon the floor. We carefully stepped around these remains of theater shows and reached the infamous staircase.
The lights leading up the staircase were now turned on, making the atmosphere decidedly less spooky. We climbed higher and higher— passing the landing with the offices, passing the point that I had decided to turn back one year ago. Finally, the stairs ended at a small landing with two doors.
I mean, we couldn’t leave without at least trying to open the doors. The one closest to us opened up to what we figured was the inner workings of the stage below us. What we saw was puzzle pieces of wood and metal criss-crossing and intersecting in patterns I did not completely understand. The other door was locked. Later, when we were back in the seating area of Palmer, we realized that it led to one of two small balcony areas inside of palmer.
We went downstairs to explore more of the backstage area. It was here that we found little nooks and crannies that satiated our desire to discover eerie things.
We found a little room that was pitch black— when I shined my flashlight, it was completely empty except for a small box TV lying near the corner.
There were also these shelves filled with old blue chair cushions— I guess they had to replace the auditorium seats every once in a while.
A rusted red bicycle with a little basket containing an old paper towel roll and a thing of wet wipes stood propped against a wall. It was hard to imagine it had moved from that spot in several years.
The entirety of Palmer’s stage was piled upon by mechanical pieces of the stage. All of the lights had been taken down. It was hard to imagine this was the same stage that had hosted Martha Graham, Yo-Yo Ma, and Billy Joel all those years ago.
We had just about finished exploring, but I had one last request. “Can we go up to the balcony one last time?”
From up there, the stage looked particularly bare. The curtains, the Connecticut College banners, the lights— everything had been taken down. Without all the ornaments and embellishments, it was really just a conglomeration of wood, brick, and plaster— something that could be taken apart as easy as it was put together.
“Are you ready?” My friend turned away from the stage to look at me.
I snapped one last picture of the doors we had just entered through— the exit glowing in green lights.
“Yeah. I think it’s time to go.” •
