“I don’t know what it is about that building that draws my attention so much…it’s like it’s always nagging in the back of my brain, and I find myself going out of my way to drive by just to catch a glimpse of it from the freeway. It’s old, built in the 1920s, back when nobody had a clue that the bottom was going to fall out of the stock market in a few years. The art deco styling isn’t what you’d call an outstanding example of that kind of architecture, but the concept of the place was something a bit different: a world class theater to cater to the artsy types looking for something more refined, and a high-rise apartment attached to house them or, more likely, those rich enough to afford to stay in the place; apparently it used to be quite a status symbol to say you lived there. These days the entire place looks like it’s falling apart, closed down sometime in the 50s and left to rot. I couldn’t tell you why it hasn’t been demolished and something else built on the site.
I also couldn’t tell you why the whole property has been fenced in at ground level, or why those fences are built atop ten foot concrete barriers. If you drove by it at street level, you’d almost never guess there was a 20 floor building behind those walls. Walls without an actual entrance, I might add; no gate or ramp or anything. Even the riverside part of the structure has been walled up. I guess the idea was to make the place completely off limits, but I’ve never been able to find out why.
The Providence was pretty successful at first from all accounts I’ve been able to dig up, even remaining somewhat profitable even through the ’30s, and bounced back closer to it’s earlier years during the following decade. But then by the mid 50s, something had happened. The story was some kind of chemical that got sucked up into the pipes from a nearby spill, and that whatever the stuff was, it was too toxic for anyone to stay inside for long. The whole place was evacuated, apparently with everything of value left behind and nobody being allowed back inside to get their belongings. There was some minor uproar about it, but for a wonder, there was very little attention given to the building after that. It wasn’t even until the late ’60s that the barriers were built, and sometime the following decade when the fences went up.
Most people aren’t going to think twice about the Providence; it’s been there forever at this point. Sometimes you’ll hear someone comment on how big of an eyesore it is, but the city government doesn’t seem to be the least bit interested in doing anything about it. In fact, public records on the whole property are scarce after it was closed down, as are any kinds of local news stories. There are plenty of rumors floating around, kind of urban legends I guess you could say; the most common ones are that the place is haunted and filled with ghosts and demons and other evil things.
I suppose that it’s the mystery of the place that draws me; who doesn’t like a good mystery, right?
And I’m not the only one. Over the years, I’ve discovered dozens of groups working independently on finding out what’s going on with the building, and they’ve built up quite a wealth of knowledge about it. The internet’s a great place, and these groups have started coming together, and the mystery just keeps getting bigger.
There are architects who have studied the building and the original blueprints, who say that the building doesn’t match, just on the outside, so who knows what’s going on with the inside?
Well, the urbex crowd has held the place as something of a holy grail for exploration for years. It’s not entirely impossible to get inside the barriers, but so far nobody’s managed to make it beyond the theater and the lobby; all the pictures and reports are that the elevator shafts and stairwells that lead up to the apartments have been completely blocked off by a mix of old furniture and concrete. The theater itself seems to be pretty well preserved all things considered, and there is a photo of a sign that was stuck on the front window. It’s yellowed with age and has to be from the 50s, but it mentions reaching the apartments via the “Studies Room”. So far, nobody has managed to locate where this could be; all the old documents from the Providence’s heyday never mentioned it, and there’s nothing in the blueprints. For the most part, though, modern recording equipment doesn’t work well inside, as the batteries die off rapidly, or they just start filming or snapping really distorted images. The only successful kind of photo evidence has come from older cameras, like 35mm and Polaroids.
Oh, and something else the urbex-ers have found out…the place is a no-fly zone for their drones. The whole property, and a good hundred yards around the outer barriers are off-limits, just like airports and special government buildings. Strange, huh?
The ghost hunting crowd has slipped inside a few times over the years as well, and they’ve had some unsettling feelings in the rooms outside the theater, have supposedly had some strange noises that were recorded there, saw some shadowy things moving around, the typical kind of stuff you hear about. The theater itself, oddly, is supposedly calm as can be, even peaceful. All the reports over the last 20 years from ghost hunters say they’ve caught absolutely nothing in there, have even felt comfortable sleeping in there overnight!
Needless to say, speculation on what’s really going on inside there is running wild. I’ve driven passed the property so many times, even sat on a bench in the park across the river for hours, just staring at the building…almost like it’s calling me.
I want to go inside. I know there’s something there. I don’t know what that something is, but I want to know, for good, bad, or worse. Maybe it’s just my curiosity getting the better of me, maybe I’m just being reckless. Maybe I just need to get off the internet for a while and read a good book or something.
I don’t know…I’m meeting up with some urbex guys tomorrow morning. They’re going inside, and I’m going to go with them. I can hardly find the will to sleep, and I can’t concentrate on anything but the piles of information about the Providence that have told so little of it’s story.
This is something I have to do…something I’m…called to do… ‘Called’ is a strange word, but it fits, I think. There’s something there, something I just have to find or experience. Tomorrow morning can’t come soon enough.”
-Ashton B. Corbett
Commentary
This is, as you may have surmised, done in journal-entry style, about a location that I’ve actually had in my head for several months now. I had a very vivid dream of this place (which played out more like a video game at the time, like a mix of Resident Evil and Saints Row 4…yeah, it was strange), with a lot more details that I’ve not written about…yet. Unlike most of my dreams, this one stuck around for quite a long while after I woke up, long enough for me to write down a lot of details about what I’d seen, and the name of the place in particular stuck with me. I wound up with a couple pages, and the concept’s been stuck in my mind since then.
As it happened, I’ve been digging into the Call of Cthulhu RPG a lot as of late, probably going to be running a campaign before long, and upon doing more research for my initial story ideas, which was planned to start around 1865 and the assassination of President Lincoln, I happened across the Wikipedia article about Boston Corbett. Reading about the man who shot John Wilkes Booth in the context of a Call of Cthulhu scenario set all kinds of flags waving (escaping an asylum on horseback, his rather uncertain fate), especially what he said about violating his orders when he shot Booth…”Providence directed me.” Links formed and puzzle pieces fell into place, and I had the beginnings of a massive story spanning over 200 years.
It’s still quite the work in progress, but I’m hopeful for where this is going, and will endeavor to see this made into something much greater than just a single journal entry by a guy who I managed to name without spending hours debating with myself as to whether the name was good or not.
And yes, I’m calling it good, even if his initials are A.B.C., lol.
Until next time…Urban out!
