Today, who were we in 1900? The University of
Houston's College of Engineering presents this
series about the machines that make our
civilization run, and the people whose ingenuity
created them.
Our Houston Astrodome opened
in 1965. Its 680-foot diameter dome was then
largest in the world. So what do you suppose was
the largest free-span dome before that? The
Pantheon? St. Peter's
Church in Rome? They're only around 140 feet. But,
in 1901, a 200-foot dome was built and I'm certain
you'll never guess where.
The story, told by engineer Ronald Buckler, began
in 1888 when the railroad finally reached southern
Indiana. A businessman, Col. Lee Sinclair, had made
a pile of money. Now, with rail service, he decided
to create a spa in an Indiana town named West Baden
Springs, after the local sulfur hot springs.
Sinclair built a 500-room hotel, casino, Catholic
church, opera house, gymnasium, swimming pool, and
more. His brochure listed fifty ills that the
waters would cure -- including alcoholism, pimples,
and gallstones. The railroad hauled in visitors
from the East and business boomed until 1901. Then
a terrible fire destroyed all those wooden
structures in an hour's time.
When that happened, the owner of rival French Lick
Springs seized the moment to announce a big
expansion.
And the battle of the spas was on. Sinclair
immediately commissioned a great fireproof pleasure
palace -- over 700 rooms, many of which would
surround, and face into, a vast domed atrium. The
contract stipulated that it would be finished
within 200 days.
Up it went. The inverted-bowl-shaped dome of
structural steel rode on rollers to accomodate
thermal expansion. The rollers sat on the flat tops
of six-story columns. The first guests entered this
monumental hotel one year, to the day, after the
fire.
But times change. First, modern medicine eroded the
plausibility of the spa's miracle-cures. The
emphasis shifted from the waters to recreational
facilities. Then the depression. To the handful of
guests wandering its cavernous immensities in 1932,
it felt more like a mausoleum than a resort. The
hotel closed and never reopened. The Jesuits bought
it for the sum of one dollar.
They occupied it until 1964. Then it became too
much for them as well. Various people have owned
it, tried to occupy it, and finally let it fall
into ruin. One outer section has collapsed. In
1996, the Historic Landmarks foundation bought it
for a quarter-million dollars. At this report
they're trying to hold it together until they can
find a permanent owner and use for it. Meanwhile
they'll run tours for ten dollars, starting in May,
1997.
Take one look at that vast interior -- largest in
the world for 2/3 of this century. It leaves us
torn between laughter and tears. It is so grand, so
pretentious, so wildly beyond any human purpose. It
is such an accurate mirror of who we were -- in a
grand age that we've all but forgotten.
I'm John Lienhard, at the University of Houston,
where we're interested in the way inventive minds
work.
(Theme music)
