The Roaring ‘20s. World War I was already a memory. The economy boomed. Money came easily and Americans were spending it on fun. The only way for Americans to get where they wanted to go at the speed they wanted to travel was by car, and it had taken its place as the nation’s favorite way of getting from here to there. Henry Ford’s Oklahoma City plant, like others around the nation, had been churning out cars for 11 years, and Ford hadn’t even made a dent in the demand for them. America loved the car but had only made it to first base.

Into that American landscape was born Route 66. The road’s architects expected it to be a fine addition to the national infrastructure. Nobody imagined that it would consummate the nation’s love affair with the car, make so much American history available to the general public and be the birthplace of styles, designs, looks and attitudes that defined American pop culture during its heyday after World War II. Nobody imagined it would witness the exodus of beaten down, broken Okies looking for a better life in California.

Some have said otherwise, but Route 66 is not dead. The past four decades, however, have been rough on it. Five modern super-highways offer speed and convenience unmatched by their predecessor – and follow, more or less, the same path. They’re ruthless competitors. But 66 is still here. The interstates will get you there faster, but anybody’s who’s driven Route 66 knows the old cliché is true: It’s all about the journey, not the destination.

Tulsa native and three-time Pulitzer Prize nominee, Michael Wallis, has written 15 books, most of them efforts to transport readers across time and space to the American West. He is the author of Route 66: The Mother Road and was the first inductee into the Oklahoma Route 66 Hall of Fame. He’s actively involved in the road’s preservation, as well as its documentation.

After losing her corporate job of 12 years to downsizing, award-winning photographer Sandi Wheaton decided to take a breather of sorts. With a small camper full of cameras in tow, Wheaton took to Route 66, hoping to find cool sites, the perfect shot, interesting people and herself, as well. She chronicled her journey in her blog, www.pictureroute66.com.

By the 1970s, Route 66 – or, rather, many of the small towns along its length – was deteriorating, a victim of bland interstate convenience. The federal government began removing the world-famous Route 66 shields and, says Wallis, people began to talk about Route 66 in the past tense.

“I knew that they might have taken down the federal shields, but the road was still out there. There was a lot of what I call ‘Death by Interstate,’ where whole towns were cut off because they didn’t get an off-ramp on the interstate – one of the five interstates between Chicago and Santa Monica that try to take Route 66’s place. But many towns did and have survived,” he says.

So too have survived or sprung up an eclectic array of sites to behold in each of the states where Route 66 winds, roars and occasionally staggers – all along bringing joy to the generations who seek out her adventure.

Illinois

Heading west, the Route 66 trip begins at Chicago’s Buckingham Fountain. It’s massive, one of the largest fountains in the world. Its design pays homage to the four states touching Lake Michigan: Illinois, Wisconsin, Indiana and Michigan. In 1927, Chicago resident Kate Buckingham commissioned the fountain in honor of her late brother, Clarence.

Built one year after the construction of Route 66 began, it marks the eastern starting point of America’s Main Street. It sits in the middle of Grant Park, Chicago’s front yard. The first piece of public art installed along the highway, it blazed a trail for other pieces further down the road.

Fighting Chicago morning rush hour traffic and fighting with her dashboard camera kept Wheaton distracted at the beginning of her trip, but anticipation and excitement were still there.

“I knew I was going to be spending a long time traveling by myself, I knew I was going to see a lot more of America than I had previously seen, and I knew I was going to meet a lot of different people, but I didn’t know what any of that was going to look like,” she says. “So, I was thrilled. I was starting a big adventure that I would never forget, one that would change me forever.”

Missouri

St. Louis, Gateway to the West. That’s important and should be remembered. More important to know, though, is that it’s also home to Ted Drewes, where, for a pittance, the best frozen custard in the land can be had. Be prepared to wait in line. The locals can’t get enough, either, and mob the Chippewa Avenue shop every summer evening. Next door a sad Baskin Robbins hangs on by a thread, hoping every night to siphon off a few Ted Drewes customers who lose their patience with its lines.

There is a perception out there that, once the big city is far behind, it’s easy to get lost on Route 66. Wallis brushes it off, and says, as if to steel would-be travelers, “It’s damn hard to get lost on Route 66. And besides that, there’s no such thing as getting lost. Getting lost can be your best opportunity. It offers you a whole new set of gifts and approaches. Sometimes you have your best experiences when you’re so-called lost.”

The Elbow Inn in Devil’s Elbow serves better barbecue than the restaurants peppering the exits of the interstate a few miles north. But it is not – and never will be – as family-friendly. Ladies trade bras for shots. Payment doesn’t go into the register – it’s hung from the ceiling. There are more bras – and a better selection – in this place than a Victoria’s Secret. Yes, there are other bars out there with the same shtick, but they’re only pale imitators of this Route 66 original.

It was somewhere around here that Wheaton remembered why she started her journey in the first place.

“Route 66 isn’t a road trip; it’s the road trip. I stumbled across Route 66 on a drive through Arizona in the early ‘90s, and I was puzzled because I didn’t think the road still existed. It was like accidentally bumping into what you thought was a myth. A decade later, I photographed the California desert stretch of Route 66 between Needles and Barstow, and I just fell in love with the empty road,” she says. “I remember driving through the desert, keeping pace with one of the ever-present trains, and the stereo blasting. The sense of freedom was palpable. How can you not yearn for more of that? 

“After that, I vowed to drive the whole thing. My photographic projects tend to center around abandoned places. After seeing that deserted bit in California, I was curious to know how the whole Route looked. I wanted to photograph the ruins we left behind after the interstate changed everything.”

Kansas

Only 13 miles of Route 66 pass through Kansas, but they’re fantastic miles. Shortly after crossing the border from Missouri into Kansas, it passes through Galena, the prototypical Route 66 small town, and a vanguard of Route 66 revival.

Galena provided a large chunk of the inspiration for Radiator Springs, the backdrop of the 2006 animated film, Cars, which, incidentally, features Wallis as the voice of the sheriff. Next to a newly renovated 1920s KanOtex gas station sits a life-size “Tow Tater.” (“That’s not right,” legions of children will scream. “We own the rights,” Disney’s lawyers will wail.)

It is the original, rusted out mining boom truck that inspired the animated character.

The gas station is now 4 Women on the Route. It is exactly what it says it is – four women working overtime to restore Galena to its previous glories. A gift shop and café have been added to the station. The Reuben served there is amazing, and it comes with free (and animated) conversation.

Their efforts underscore a tough fact about Route 66: Its commercialization keeps it alive.

“It’s a commercial highway. That’s something people lose track of. It’s all about people turning a dollar, making a buck. They want to sell you a hot meal, a tank of gas, a room for the night, a handful of postcards, a book. If that commercial angle stops, then the route dies because the people will leave. Without the people, it won’t work. It’s a people’s highway,” says Wallis.

Oklahoma

At the heart of Route 66 sits Oklahoma. Here the road is known as the “free road,” a slower, cheaper ride than the turnpike running from Tulsa to Oklahoma City.

During the 1930s, though, Route 66 became an escape route. The Dust Bowl devastated Oklahoma. Farmers found themselves without farms. Then banks closed. Then businesses started closing. Hundreds of thousands of Oklahomans were reduced to poverty almost overnight. With no other options, they packed up and headed to California to make new starts. The road they took was Route 66.

In Oklahoma there’s an intense appreciation of the road’s history – as more than just an escape route. There is the Oklahoma Route 66 Museum in Clinton, the National Transportation and Route 66 Museum in Elk City and the Route 66 Interpretive Center in Chandler.

Route 66 is a constantly evolving organism. The lights go out in some things and they come on in others – like Arcadia’s POPS. On the northeast fringes of Oklahoma City, a neon-ringed, 66-foot-tall pop bottle marks the spot. The restaurant serves typical American fare, but you can wash the food down with a choice from more than 600 different sodas. The diner fulfills its promise to capture the colorful, freewheeling, fun essence of Route 66.

Texas

Just outside of Amarillo sits one of Route 66’s most memorable sites, Cadillac Ranch. Commissioned by eccentric artist and philanthropist Stanley Marsh 3, this public art offering features 10 Cadillacs buried face down. The cars run from youngest to oldest models, capturing the evolution and disappearance of the tail fin and lean at the same angle as the Great Pyramid of Egypt.

No two photos of Cadillac Ranch are the same. The public is encouraged to bring spray paint and make its own artistic contributions. The stripped and rusted automobiles are covered with graffiti – just like the walls of empty inner Motor City, where they were born. While it’s a clever monument to a lost era, the routine participation of the public suggests that while fins are out, Route 66 is still in.??

“Having grown up in the suburban 1950s, we were well aware of the mythic power of the Cadillac, the ‘Standard of the World.’ But our fathers only got up the ladder as far as Oldsmobile,” says Chip Lord, one of the artists behind Cadillac Ranch.

“And we were looking back at this era from the perspective of 1968 and the Vietnam generation, so when invited by Stanley Marsh 3 to make a project on his property in Amarillo, the idea for Cadillac Ranch sprang naturally from our collective consciousness.”

“I dig it,” says Wheaton. “It’s fun, it’s playful, it’s conceptual, it’s interactive, it’s engaging and it’s curious and weird. I like art that engages people and gets them involved. I like to see things that move outside of the formal gallery space and bridge the gaps between artist, institution and the general public.”

New Mexico

The multilane highways Wallis mentions continually throw their convenience into the ring with Route 66’s history and culture, bringing with them the horror of cookie cutter highway motels. Profits are a little harder to come by for the competing hotels, motels and motor courts of Route 66. But they’re going strong. Gallup’s El Rancho Motel is as good an example as any.

The hotel boasts its preferred status among stars of several eras that filmed pictures in the area. Gallup’s surroundings served as filming locations for many movies with stars ranging from Errol Flynn and Katherine Hepburn to Gregory Peck and Humphrey Bogart. And while filming, these stars called it home.

The lobby alone is worth the stop. A gigantic fireplace welcomes visitors and lights up glass cabinets of American Indian art. A lit set of buffalo horns hangs above the fireplace. Mounted elk heads watch over lobby traffic. The El Rancho was born in a time where the only way to compete on America’s Main Street was to offer better service and individuality. Thus the El Rancho (like many of its brothers and sisters along Route 66) has what no chain hotel can offer – ambience.

Arizona

Arizona’s stretch of Route 66 leads travellers to some of the most spectacular, natural sites along the old highway. If the Grand Canyon and the Painted Desert don’t pull the asphalt trekkers out of their cars, nothing will. The names of the towns that Route 66 passes through are worth the trip. West of Winslow, wheeled wayfarers can see Two Guns and, a bit farther west, Twin Arrows, both weathered and uninhabited, but still fun to stomp through.

Flagstaff, with a little bit of all things Route 66, more than merits a stop. The Santa Fe railroad put Flagstaff on the map in the 19th century, and the original depot – restored and carefully preserved – still stands.

“Flagstaff is home to many iconic Route 66 treasures,” says Jacki Lennars of the Flagstaff Convention and Visitors Bureau. “From the famed Museum Club and historic train depot to the throwback travel court-style motels and nostalgic diners, Flagstaff still celebrates its Route 66 heritage today.”

Flagstaff, unlike many spots along Route 66, was never in danger of decline. In 1899, the University of Northern Arizona made Flagstaff its home, assuring a healthy economy. Still, Flagstaff dutifully memorializes the old highway. Original Route 66 motor courts dot Flagstaff’s landscape. The Museum Club, a wonderful specimen of Route 66’s faux Frontier architecture, still carries on as a watering hole for travelers ending a day on the road.

September sees Flagstaff invaded by hundreds of classic cars (many with fins). For a brief time, past and present come together, the sun gleaming off of the chrome of 50-year-old cars moving back and forth on the Mother Road.

California

Route 66 should, and does, terminate at the Pacific in Santa Monica, just west of Los Angeles. Santa Monica covers the route’s final 26 blocks. It’s tough to follow the road through Los Angeles. It swings from Sunset Boulevard to Wilshire to Santa Monica Boulevard.

“I wanted to keep going,” says Wheaton. “The best thing about the trip was the people. From one state to the next, I kept having experiences that illustrated that people are generally good and want to help. Along Route 66, so many of the folks I met were kind, open and generous. That was the most positive, and overwhelming, thing about the entire experience, a feeling of connectedness to total strangers.”

A large plaque marks the dedication of the highway to famous Oklahoman Will Rogers, not a block from the coast in Santa Monica’s Palisades Park.

“Route 66 offers you something different,” says Wallis. “And it’s not always great. It can be good, bad and ugly. But it always gives you a chance to experience America before America became generic.”

Mother Lode of the Mother Road

The nation’s longest driveable stretch (more than 400 miles) of Route 66 cuts through Oklahoma, providing more room for the Mother Road’s vaunted colorful sites than any other state.

In addition to the museums dedicated to the route itself, enlightenment of one form or another can be found at the Rt. 66 Vintage Iron Motorcycle Museum in Miami, the Seaba Station Motorcycle Museum in Warwick and Darryl Starbird’s National Rod & Custom Car Hall of Fame Museum in Afton. Slightly more highbrow are Miami’s beautiful Coleman Theatre, a historic Vaudeville movie theater; the JM Davis Arms & Historical Museum – billed as the world’s largest privately owned museum – and the Will Rogers Memorial Museum in Claremore.

The odd and unique abound as well, ranging from Catoosa’s inexplicably tropical Blue Whale to Foyil’s Totem Pole Park (home of “The World’s Largest Totem Pole”). The Mohawk Lodge Indian Store in Clinton was the first trading post in Indian Territory and still buys, sells and trades authentic Indian crafts and artifacts across the same counter used in 1892. Located near Hydro, Lucille’s Service Station is one of only two upper-story, out-thrust porch style stations left on Oklahoma’s stretch of Route 66.

“Unusual” extends to dining on Route 66 as well, such as at Vinita’s Chuck Wagon restaurant, the centerpiece of a replica Old West town, and at Weatherford’s Lucille’s Roadhouse, a unrepentant ‘50s era diner. One can also dine in a log cabin at Molly’s Landing in Catoosa or chow down on a house specialty fried onion burger at Robert’s Grill in El Reno.

Growing up, there was always music around Roxana Rozsa Lorton’s home. It was only natural, part heritage and part pedigree.
“My father taught for the Graduate School of Music at The University of Tulsa for 36 years,” says Lorton, who with husband Robert Eugene Lorton make up one of Oklahoma’s leading philanthropic couples.

“He composed, conducted, played organ and piano – most things, really.”

Bela Rozsa, Roxana’s father, was far more than a music professor. He was mentor and inspiration to generations of students, a beloved figure to thousands of TU graduates and others now spread around the world, and one of the stones in the foundation of the university’s storied musical heritage.

Bela himself was son of a famed musician, Hungarian opera star Lajos Sandor Rozsa, and Bela attended Liszt Academy in Budapest. The family moved to New York City in 1922, where the elder Rozsa was welcomed into the Metropolitan Opera and the junior Rozsa into the Institute of Musical Art, which later became the Juilliard School.

When Lajos Rozsa passed away tragically soon afterward, Bela went on to take care of he and his mother by working as a pianist at a silent movie house. He later graduated Juilliard, worked as a staff pianist and organist at NBC before going on to earn multiple degrees and teaching in Texas and Iowa before landing at TU.

“Instead of Hollywood, he went the academic route,” Roxana Lorton says.

Roxana went her own route at TU, studying journalism and art, and thoroughly bonding with the university.

“It was like a family when I was there for my four years because the professors and faculty all knew me,” Lorton says. “It was a great experience.”

Driven by her love of the arts, Lorton would go on to become the first female president of the Tulsa Philharmonic and to hold ranking positions with the Philbrook and Gilcrease museums, among numerous other positions in arts and culture.

While establishing a legacy both through family and an immense footprint on the development of TU, Bela Rozsa wasn’t able to see all of his dreams for the university actualized. One goal – a sizable performance center – remained elusive.

“I remember we were trying to build a performance center as far back as the 1950s,” Lorton says.

This month, thanks to the hard work and dedication of many – from TU faculty to a talented creative team, to a host of charitable donors who contributed to an exceedingly brisk campaign championed by Robert and Roxana Lorton – that longtime ambition reaches fruition. With a grand gala event on Sept. 15, the Roxana Rozsa and Robert Eugene Lorton Performance Center opens its doors to a university and community that have been clamoring for it for decades.

“The night of the opening will be exhilarating,” Lorton says. “I know I am going to cry.”

An Auspicious History

The introduction of the Lorton PC also represents the latest milestone in the colorful history of music and the performing arts at TU – which have, in turn, strongly influenced the university and the entire northeast Oklahoma community.

Although TU’s music program wasn’t officially approved until 1922, the university – then known as Henry Kendall College and situated in “Indian Country” – received broad recognition as far back as 1896 when it formed a male quartet, which was featured in the Muskogee Times’ Thanksgiving edition a year later.

“In 1907, two of our original 11 employees were music instructors,” says Steadman Upham, president of TU. “The Tulsa Symphony Orchestra and Tulsa Philharmonic emerged from TU’s University Symphony Orchestra.”

In the 1920s, following its launch, the music program experienced a period of rapid growth, spearheaded by Albert Lukken as department head. An effort championed by Tulsa oilman Harry Tyrrell led to several new additions to the university campus including the Tyrrell Fine Arts Building (now known as Tyrrell Hall), which was dedicated in 1930.

However, it was a couple of other initiatives during that era that launched the music program into the hearts and minds of many Tulsans. Lukken championed the creation of the annual Starlight Concerts to bring music and a little joy into the community. The extremely inexpensive after-dark concerts at Skelly Field attracted students, faculty and members of the community and included performances by musicians from student to professional.

Around the same time the originators of the Starlight events began sponsoring operas in the school, culminating – many would later say – in the 1933 outdoor world premier of Aida. It was a Herculean production that brought together talent not just from TU and from the larger community, but from as far away as Chicago and New York. Carlo Edwards, impresario from the Metropolitan Opera in New York, arrived to serve as artistic executive. Local participation ranged from Central High School’s chorus to church singers, music teachers and dance instructors. The end result was a legendary performance, demonstrating the allure and power of opera in even the darkest of times – as well as the viability of and support for the performing arts in Tulsa.

Lukken led the effort for accreditation from the National Association of the Schools of Music in 1940, and in 1954 the School of Music was formalized.

Subsequent leaders and administrations continued to advance the role of music at TU. A pop chorale and modern choir were formed, and students garnered exposure on KVOO. Programs in the School of Music were added, expanded and all the while Tyrrell Hall served as an admirable (and acoustically solid) home base.

But hope for and promise of a larger stage developed, and later the hope for a facility that could house the university’s entire Film Studies department, was born.

“There is one faculty member who has now retired, who claimed that when he was hired he was told that there would be a new (performance center),” says College of Art & Sciences Dean Tom Benediktson.

The Crown Jewel

In a spring “trial concert,” Benediktson says graduating seniors had a chance to perform in the Lorton PC and faculty had the chance to experience the two-floor, 700-plus capacity theater.

“We had a chance to hear the acoustics, and they were good,” Benediktson says.

State of the art technology abounds in the theater itself, from sound and lighting to a ballet floor, hydraulic orchestra pit.
Architect Chris Chivetta of Hastings + Chivetta, a firm that specializes in campus architecture, says that the theater is well designed for multi-purpose use.

“It’s unique in that its acoustics are designed for a variety of uses,” Chivetta says. “Usually universities choose music, vocal or stage, but TU wanted to have all three and had very high standards to meet.”

Chivetta says that isn’t the only uncommon aspect of the Lorton PC.

“TU had an interesting approach in that they wanted a world class performing arts venue but also wanted the PC to support their academic mission,” he says.

The Lorton PC is more than just the newest arts venue in Tulsa.

“We will have both Film Studies and Music housed in the building and the two will be able to work together as never before,” Benediktson says.

The PC will house offices for both schools, specialized rehearsal and practice rooms, classrooms, seminar rooms, two recital halls, a film production suite and many more amenities.

For film students and faculty, the Lorton PC will provide an important first.

“We’ll all be together, finally, in once space,” says Joseph Rivers, chair of the department of Film Studies.

“We have been scattered in several buildings – both students and faculty. We have a community of film students but it’s been scattered around. This is a wonderful opportunity to create a community in which to collaborate and share ideas.”

Rivers sees other advantages as well, such as newer, better equipment for film editing and a post-production lab.

“The film scoring lab is right nearby,” Rovers points out. “It will be a unique opportunity for music and film to work collaboratively.”

In fact, Benediktson says that potential collaboration between music and film and new equipment could have greater ramifications still for the university.

“We’ve applied for accreditation for a new cooperative program between music and film,” he says.

Rivers says that the new facilities will permit more screenings and festivals as well.

“In the future I think we will have more significant film festivals that go beyond the university and connect us to the larger film and general communities,” Rivers says.

Administration and faculty also recognize that the Lorton PC could be an important recruiting tool. Benediktson points out the frequency of students visiting their potential universities, meeting with faculty and touring facilities. The Lorton PC would be a clear advantage to film and music students as well as those for whom a vibrant collegiate arts community is important.

“We’ve taken many students on tours, and they have been impressed,” Rivers says.

The Givers

The realization of the dream that is the Lorton PC was not an easy or inexpensive process, drawing both on leadership and a community of givers. Robert and Roxana Lorton are quick to credit the greater philanthropic community for what amounts to a spectacular campaign in the midst of the nation’s worst economic environment in almost a century.

“We have had some really wonderful people,” Robert Lorton says.

He says he had to be talked into heading the capital campaign.

“My brother, Fulton Collins, conned us into taking on a second campaign,” quips Robert Lorton. “Our only requirement was that the campaign had to be five years.”

The Lorton family, longtime owners of the Tulsa World, has a long history of supporting TU. In fact, Lorton says he remembers well the opening of the campus’s Lorton Hall, which is still an important academic venue today.

With the five-year period expired this summer, the results were impressive.

“The goal we set at a board retreat was a stretch at $400 million,” Robert Lorton says. “We raised more than $650 million.”

“It is remarkable that our Embrace the Future Campaign ended more than 60 percent over its goal – and during an economic downturn, no less,” says Upham.  Robert Lorton, like Roxana, is a TU alumnus. Many other board members, he points out, are not.

“We developed a board that represents the leadership of the Tulsa community,” he says.

In turn, the performance center “provides a place for the university to interact with the community,” he says.

When Ellen Adelson audited a few courses at TU in the 1980s, it was the start of a long-term relationship with the university.

“I was struck by the richness of the library and particularly the rare books collection,” she says.

She’s been involved in campus social, philanthropic and intellectual life ever since. She and husband Dr. Stephen Adelson were among key contributors to the university’s campaign.

“As donors, we’re always thanked, but I feel like, no, don’t thank us,” Adelson says. “We’re constantly learning, being challenged and making lifelong connections. We get excited by new ideas and by new opportunities. We had a very emotional involvement (with the campaign) – we had an investment of pride.”

Peter and Nancy Meinig, like the Adelsons, are key philanthropic supporters who did not actually graduate from TU.

“We’re active Cornell alumni,” says Peter Meinig, who has been a TU board member for almost two decades.

“We have a strong belief in higher education and believe a strong TU is good for the city.”

Nancy Meinig says their participation in this campaign was driven by their support of the arts in general.

“We thought this was a big need on campus, that TU needs a facility like this,” she says. “We’re happy to support it because we feel the value of the arts. Also a 700-seat theater fills a niche in the city.”

Through hard work, dedication and commitment, campaign leaders and donors recognize the historic nature of the Lorton PC opening.

“This has been talked about for so many years, and it just couldn’t get going,” Adelson says. “This is the fulfillment of a longtime ambition.”

Robert Lorton says that conventional wisdom might assert that after the success of the long campaign, “we’d take a breath and feel a bit of a letdown.

“But nope,” he adds. “I feel exhilarated. It’s done but it’s a stepping stone to carry us to the future and TU has nothing but an upward trajectory.”

Thanks to a generous greater Tulsa community of givers, it is a trajectory that will be marked each step of the way, with music filling the hearts – and lives – of many.

Lorton Performance Center at a Glance

Amenities within the 77,000-square-foot Lorton Performance Center include:
Concert hall with seating for 700-plus on two floors;
Full performance stage with ballet floor, scenery fly and trap room; an hydraulic orchestra pit; theatrical lighting and acoustical control booths;
6,000-square-foot grand hall designed for art display and pre-function gatherings;
Spacious offices for faculty in the School of Music and the
Department of Film Studies;
Specialized rehearsal and practice rooms designed to accommodate groups of various sizes;
Classrooms and seminar rooms;
Electronic piano laboratory;
Individual practice rooms for vocal and instrumental instruction;
Film production suite with post-production editing and scoring capabilities;
Two recital halls, including one with fixed seating for 100 and another with flexible seating to accommodate groups of various sizes;
Dressing suite complete with a green room and VIP lounge, as well as shower and laundry facilities;
Ample space for theatrical set and instrument storage, a costume shop and storage area, and a scenery staging room; catering kitchen; ticket office; and
Dramatic colonnade featuring distinctive two-story Gothic arches that will overlook a sweeping front lawn and face onto Harvard Avenue.

Key contributors to the team that created the Lorton PC include: Chris Chivetta, Hastings + Chivetta (Architects); Kyle Rudolph, Key Construction (Project Manager); Brad Thurman, Wallace Engineering; Doug Phillips, Phillips & Bacon (lighting); Rick McMahon, Midwest Marble (flooring); Phil Long (interior design consultant)

Key Donors to Lorton Performance Center

Roxana Rozsa and Robert Eugene Lorton Family
The Judith and Jean Pape Adams
Charitable Foundation
Ellen G. Adelson Family Foundation
Caroline B. and D. Thomas Benediktson
Patricia I. and C. Arnold Brown Family
John and Mary Ann Bumgarner
Irene and Sanford P. Burnstein
J. A. Chapman and Leta M. Chapman Charitable Trust
Katherine G. and John F. Coyle
Lex M. Frieden
E. Ann Graves
Pearl M. and Julia J. Harmon Foundation
Peggy Dow Helmerich
Henry Kendall College of Arts
and Sciences Faculty
Shelley S. and Stephen E. Jackson
The Nan Jankowsky Trust
Dr. Jacob W. Jorishie
George Kaiser Family Foundation
Charles C. Killin
Nancy E. and Peter C. Meinig
Peggy A. and Ronald E. Predl
Robert M. and Jean S. Roberts
Miriam Spindler-Lynch/
Hyechka Club of Tulsa
Peggy and Steadman Upham