The prompt for 'What's going on' is Hotel
I give you a bit of the history of the beloved Hilton where we often stayed the night
The Formerly Blackball Hilton
A laid-back Victorian lady
No chandeliers suspended from ceilings,
but rooms dressed in screaming colours.
Poetry painted on the bathroom wall,
a great place to stay any day.
This beauty rests against
the backdrop of mountains,
in the dust left from a golden time
of the old town’s coal mine.
Stories flourish in this hotel.
Back then, miners made a fist,
fought for 30 minutes’ lunch.
The judge granted 80.
In the wake of this fame, the hotel
became the cradle of the Labour Party.
One day, gracefully renamed
Blackball Hilton after the director
of the coal company,
infamous it became as their
name matched a chain.
The Hilton headquarters
commanded a change:
this hotel would harm their name,
tucked away in the wilderness
of the West Coast of New Zealand,
The miners are long gone,
peace and rest have returned
to this spirited tiny town,
but the ghost of the past is alive
in the Formerly Blackball Hilton.
What a fascinating story! I had to read a little more about it after reading your interestingly crafted poem. It seems like a good place to film a western movie. Smiles. I am glad this hotel still exists, a remnant of mining days, and glad that you wrote this poem to give the hotel a bit more immortality. Thank you for joining us, Marja, and hope to see you again!
ReplyDeleteI love the vivid picture this poem paints!
ReplyDeleteThis was a treat to read and envision. Love the photo of the "fine old gal" who must have seemed stately in her day. I enjoyed that she became the seat of the Labour party. Interesting that this is the history of the famed Hilton hotels in the west. A fun read!!
ReplyDelete"This beauty rests against / the backdrop of the mountains...." Aw....she definitely has good looks. That she has many stories to tell is definitely an added bonus. Such a delightful poem!
ReplyDeleteI love local history, whether local to me or others, and your poem has transported me to that old hotel, Marja.
ReplyDeleteThe poetry describes the history very well and vividly. Love the facade.
ReplyDeleteBlackball was expected to die with the mine and miners gone, but it still lives as a community. The historic old hotel Hilton, beautifully described in your poem, Marja, offers information about the old days, teaching us that nothing that was once a bustling place, easily dies.
ReplyDeleteI'm so glad this old Victorian Lady has her memorial in your poem, one that doesn't bury it but lets it speak from long held memories. We need more poems like this historical narrative. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteInteresting tale...nice building !
ReplyDeleteFascinating write my friend… 🙂✌🏼
ReplyDelete