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To those who know it well, it's hard to consider Liberty Hall simply a building. From the weathered plateaus of the wooden floor to the signature celestial artwork of its vaulted ceiling to the way the foyer is bathed in light as the sun sets over Lawrence,the venue's warmth and character come through even when empty. The walls have heard the performances and orations of thousands. The stage has played host to one of the most important days in people's lives, their wedding days. Over the years, paint, plaster, sheetrock and brick rose and fell, weathered and burned. The face of Liberty Hall has changed many times over its lifetime, but few know the whole story.
Walking around Liberty Hall, Rob Fitzgerald sees history. He walks past the wooden baseboards he nailed into place, by the doorframes he erected, over the marble floor he uncovered, and underneath the massive mural on the ceiling he watched unfold brushstroke by brushstroke. He looks at it all and nods at the landmark he helped build.
"There's such a good feeling here," he says.
Fitzgerald should know. For 14 of the past 22 years, he's worked in some capacity at Liberty Hall. He started as a video store clerk and projectionist in early 1987 and joined the remodeling crew that stripped the building down to its bare bones. Now the Hall's technical manager, Fitzgerald has come to love the building for what it means to him as well as what it means to Lawrence.
Liberty Hall was born of a fire. In 1856, the offices of The Herald of Freedom, the first pro-abolition newspaper to print in Kansas, burned to the ground, leaving only a charred shell on the northeast corner of Seventh and Massachusetts streets. The lot remained empty until Samuel Edwin Poole built the first incarnation of Liberty Hall later that year.
Starting a History
The Hall became a lightning rod for many