This is an archived article that was published on sltrib.com in 1998, and information in the article may be outdated. It is provided only for personal research purposes and may not be reprinted.
Even on vacation, Ken Pullan worries about the neon sign atop the Walker Center building.
Every morning, Pullan, Walker Center operations manager, calls the National Weather Service for Salt Lake City's forecast, and, depending on the way things look outside, flips the sign's color switch. He checks again throughout the day.
And when Pullan is at home during holidays, he calls in to check the signal his assistant has set for the sign. He has been checking and double-checking the informal weather-forecasting sign for 22 years.
``It's got to be right,'' Pullan says. ``Sometimes, we're more accurate than the weather bureau.''
Besides maintaining the building, Pullan, 66, is the keeper of a longtime, almost forgotten tradition that started before Doppler radar, 3-D weather or the Internet. That was decades ago, when Salt Lake City residents looked to the Walker sign to know whether to pack an umbrella.
Back then, the Walker Center, located at the northeast corner of 200 South and Main Street, was home to Walker Bank & Trust Co. Utah's first television station, KDYL (now KTVX-Channel 4), started broadcasting from a 90-foot tower on the roof of the 20-story building 50 years ago. After just a few years, the television transmitters were moved, but the tower remained. Bank officials took advantage of it, wiring three sides of the tower with a neon ``Walker Bank.''
Visible from most parts of the valley, the blue- or red-flashing neon obelisk was the first thing travelers saw as they drove into town from the east or the west.
``It was a tradition to watch that sign,'' says William Alder, National Weather Service director.
``It was just accepted that that's how you figured out what was happening with the weather,'' says accountant Lynn Carlson, a five-year tenant of the Walker Center. ``People would say, `Let's see what the sign says.' ''
Now, many Walker Center tenants and city residents know the ritual but are unimpressed.
``It was a big deal when I was a kid. But that was a different life then. Times have changed,'' Carlson says.
For 20 years, Trolley Square mimicked the Walker Center tradition, changing the red and blue neon sign on the 700 East water tower with the weather. But the sign's timer broke in 1993 and has not been fixed.
In the mid-1980s, First Interstate Bank bought Walker Bank and moved the institution across Main Street. The old building was sold, converted into office space and the weather tower was torn down. The new owners agreed to build another neon sign.
Today, the Walker Center, built in 1911, is hemmed in by the towering office buildings that have grown up around it. The sign is barely visible, and only from certain angles.
Pullan can find it. ``I know where to look,'' he says. He wonders if anyone remembers what the colors mean. Pullan would like to post a key to the sign so passers-by can figure out the weather code.
If nothing else, his sign job will keep him from retiring. ``Things change, and there isn't much you can do about it, Pullan says. ``This is one tradition I can do something about.''