Last July, an unstable resident at Salt Lake City’s low income Stratford Hotel went to his room and set fire to a pile of combustibles on his mattress and walked out. He told the desk clerk, “There’s a fire. You might want to get everyone out of here. The police will be looking for me.”
I’ve started a photo essay on the Stratford, which is currently being restored and remodeled. Walking through its halls, you can smell the cheap tobacco smoke and liquor that over the years has soaked into the place. Sights include a door with two holes punched through it next to the word “BICTH” carved in the wood.
I’ll be posting more as the project progresses.