From under my feet I could see slivers of light peek through planks of wood. Those same floor boards just moments before had given way slightly under the weight of my steps. Walking into this precious room was like taking a leap of faith – you had to convince yourself the floor beneath you would hold, that today wouldn’t be the day the aged boards would decide to crumble, causing you to plummet to the other floor that seemed miles below.
I couldn’t calm my pulse. I couldn’t believe my eyes or my luck – I was standing in the Angel Room, a chamber built high atop the dome of the famed atrium at the restored West Baden Springs Hotel in French Lick.
Getting there wasn’t easy. That moment came after making the nail-biting, core-shaking, courage demanding trek.
The adventure – which took place Feb. 28 – was an amazing 30th birthday gift from my mother. She arranged for me, my husband and herself to get access to the Angel Room, a space closed to the public for safety reasons.
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