This would be more properly titles “My Saga with the Sun Trapp”, but that seemed too long. First off for those that don’t know The Sun Trapp is the oldest gay/queer bar in Utah and a very popular spot for queer nightlife. For many people is is just that simple, a fun club for drinks and dancing. But for me, and many others, it goes quite a bit deeper.
For the following to make sense you need to know a few things about me that you may not know if you don’t read my posts that often. The big one being that I am a transgender woman. Unlike many trans people who come out when they are young adults, all of my kids were young adults when I came out. Making such a big change later in life has various advantages and disadvantage. I came out to the world in November of 2019 after hiding who I am for decades of my adult life.
Yes 2019 right before the pandemic hit us all. I was just starting to figure out who this person was that I buried inside of me when nearly all the door I wanted to knock on were slammed shut. I managed through the pandemic like a lot of us did, doing a lot of online things. But this whole time I felt so restrained, as we were. So as soon as things started opening up again I started getting out. In my previous life I was very introverted. But I was finding that now things were different. Instead of shunning social interaction I was drawn to it.
As things opened up I started trying to figure out if I was really the introvert I had always considered myself, or if that was just one more part of how I survived a world where I wasn’t the real me. I started going to bigger and bigger events. This culminated in my going to the Park City Halloween party where there were thousand of people packed onto Main Street. I left that event with my soul screening ‘I need more’. “I wasn’t sure what the more even was, but I somehow knew the where…The Sun Trapp”.
I think deep down I always knew I wanted to dance, but I always made up excuses not to even try. I had so many of them and they all seemed so logical. But this deep hunger had grown, it had become bigger than all of my excuses. So I determined to go dancing. I got to the Trapp and felt so out of place. I waited and waited for the dance floor to fill up so that I could hide in a corner on it. But it never got that full and the need to find out what this hunger within was kept growing. “I found a corner and started dancing. Very soon all of my inhibitions were swept away. And all of my questions and excuses became meaningless. The moment felt so right and so wonderful.” “I was in ecstasy. It was like a long-lost piece of my soul of my being, came back to me. It was like being on that dance floor somehow allowed me to be whole. But it wasn’t just the dancing or the crowded dance floor it was that place, the Trapp.” At the Trapp not only could I dance but I also felt so accepted that I could just be me without worrying what others would think.
Life was amazing for the next few weeks and I thought it was going to be that way forever. Dancing had become a part of my identity and the Trapp had become my home away from home. I felt so safe there so free to be me, knowing I would be totally accepted. While it was mainly my dance place I would also go there just to hang out or dance to the jukebox when there wasn’t a DJ. Little did I know it was going to all come to a crashing end in a couple of months.
In January of 2022 I recieved an extremely distressing message, the Trapp was closing for an undisclosed amount of time. By this time I had become friends with several of staff and the owners. But what I didn’t know was that they were not the only owners. There were some silent owners who decided to not be so silent any more.
For the next few months there was a fight over control of the bar. The friends I had made at the bar told me the “silent owners” were not the best people. I was told stories of mistreatment and other concerns.
For the first few weeks I just tried to live without this new found joy, hoping that the dispute would be resolved soon and the owners I knew would reopen the club. But as the weeks dragged by it became obvious there was no quick fix.
In the end the “silent” partners became the new owners. I was told they brought in all new management and staff. As much as I wanted to go back I was very concerned. I was still very new to all of this and decided it would be wisest to trust my friends who had been part of the queer bar scene for many years. So although the Trapp was now open, it didn’t feel open to me.
I couldn’t live without dancing. It had gone from something I had never done to a central part of my life, of who I am. I realized I had to find some other place. So I started checking out other bars and dance clubs.
When Milk+ opened up that became my new go to place for a while. It was good, some nights were great, but it was never a home the way the Trapp was.
As my confidence grew I ventured out to other clubs. I eventually had a small group of clubs I loved to dance at. I felt very safe at all of these clubs but it wasn’t the same. None of them were a home in any way.
So I considered the Trapp a closed chapter in my life for over a year. But a few months ago, the idea of going to the Trapp came back to me. I realized while I had found a number of great places to dance none of them felt like a home the way the Trapp did. And in the past few months a variety of things had happened that lead me to think the new owner might not be quite as bad as I was told. And even if the owners are not the best, as long as I felt safe there did they really matter?
But just as I had about made up my mind to go back and give it a try I heard that the club was closed again. At first there was no reason given or info on how long they were going to be closed. Then some really disturbing news was reported, the current owners of the Trapp had chosen to give up their liquor license. That meant the death of the place as a queer bar. I was quite upset but it seemed there was to be no more Trapp and nothing anyone could do about it.
Then a miracle happened by the name of Mary. She stepped in and made things happen, she got the Trapp’s liquor license back and was getting setup to reopen under new-new-management.
All I knew of Mary and this re-reopening was bits and pieces from social media and some questionable new articles. There was so much unknown but by now I was so excited about the possibility of the Trapp being back in my life, of having a home again.
I couldn’t wait for the grand opening day. When I got there, about a half hour before opening there were about a hundred people in line. By the time they opened it was hundreds and kept growing. It was clear so many in the queer community wanted to see what was to be.
I got in and it felt so right, so many memories flooded my mind. I wondered around waiting for a bit then the DJ started and I started dancing. If felt so right, it felt so good.
The Trapp isn’t much to look at. It is this old hodge podge of a dive bar. But for the queer community it is such a special place. And for me it is the birth place of my dancing, of my finding a central part of who I am. I have been to many different bar now. I have had some amazing nights at some of them, but nothing can replace what the Trapp is to me.
Since the opening I have been back several times. I am slowly getting to know the staff and they all seem like wonderful people. I have had the chance to chat with Mary a few times. I don’t really know her that well. But she sees to radiate love. She seems like the perfect guardian angel to take care of the Trapp. See I don’t think the Trapp is something you really “own” it is something you care for the way you care for and nurture your children.
I am sure I will still go to other clubs at times. I have learned I like the variety the different clubs bring and I am very grateful for that. And I a so very grateful that I now have a home again. A place like none other that feels like a concoon of love.
Thank you Mary and your amazing staff for bring the Trapp back into my life
PS: I’m sure there are many other that have similar feelings.