The story
Saltair opened in 1893 on the Great Salt Lake shore west of Salt Lake City, a Moorish-domed pleasure palace built with Latter-day Saint backing as a wholesome 'Coney Island of the West' — bathers floating in the brine, the world's then-largest dance floor thundering — and its history became a cycle of splendour and loss: the great pavilion burned in 1925, its successor declined through lake recessions and burned in 1970, and the third Saltair, raised in the 1980s nearer the water from an air-force hangar's bones, now serves as a concert venue whose silhouette nods to the domes. The telling belongs mostly to the site and its predecessors: staff, concertgoers and lake visitors describe figures in old-fashioned bathing dress on the flats at dusk, a woman near the pavilion, voices and band-strains on the wind, and unease in the venue's back rooms — folklore threaded with the resort's real fires and the lake's historic drownings, which the record carries hedged and respectfully. Present Saltair as layered site-memory; event details from the venue's official pages.