Good-bye to The Coliseum

I took the news rather well, I thought.

I saw a Facebook status that announced the destruction of one of my boyhood haunts----The Coliseum in Benld, Illinois. Apparently the venerable old dance hall burned to the ground after literally ninety years of music, dancing and socialization for generations of Central and Southwestern Illinoisans.

Man, do I have memories of that place.

When I was 19-years old…..I went an entire year without missing a Saturday night at the Coliseum. Always a creature of habit, I had a routine that started with a trip to the bowling alley in Staunton. You see, the beer at the Coliseum was a bit overpriced…so you had to go to the bowling alley to prepare for the evening.

Then, at precisely at 10:15 p.m., I would wheel my 1967 Chevy Impala (sometimes with friends from Worden inside) towards Sawyerville and ultimately the Coliseum.

I embraced a polyester look in those days. Had some shoes with some elevated heels. When I walked into the huge dance hall, I strutted and appeared to be well over six-feet tall….and certainly shimmered under the black lights.

On stage for that entire year was a band called “The Guild.” I loved them. They played all of the rock of that era including plenty of McCartney, Thunderclap Neuman, ELO. Foghat….maybe even a little Jethro Tull.

Yeh, I know…..I’m greatly dating myself.

But not as bad as some people who remember Count Basie and Ike and Tina Turner performing there. It was a convenient place for bands to stop during the week on their way between Chicago and St. Louis. Almost everybody in Macoupin County has a Coliseum story that stretches back to its construction in the 1920s.

My memories are vivid….There I’d see old friends from Gillespie, Brighton, Shipman and even a few folk from Alton. I essentially was the Bethalto representation and I took the responsibility seriously.

We danced and visited and acted like nineteen year olds. I won’t go into depth. You get the idea.

Sometime around one in the morning……the band would play its last song and I would get back into that Chevy and make my way back to Bethalto via Prairietown.

God, I loved that place.

And now it’s gone.

The irony is that while it was burning, I was dancing the night away at an equally old and historic haunt in West Texas. I took the wife to The Stampede in Big Spring to dance to western swing. There I saw about four generations two-steppin’ their way around the floor.

There are similarities between the dance hall of my youth….and the one I visited last night…

Here’s the difference…

These days……..I’m done at about 11:00 p.m.

Good-bye Coliseum. Long live The Stampede.