It Started As A Simple Dream It Became A Phenomenon Called Xenon West Rick Stanton stepped through an archway so wide you could drive a pickup through it. His pulse pounded like a racehorse. The room was gigantic, piled high with water-stained cardboard boxes and old wooden pallets. A three-foot square air vent snaked throughout the room, long pieces of silver-backed insulation hanging down almost to the floor. Unpainted and stained concrete walls surrounded him, blobs of cement hanging down where it had been forced through the forms. A thick fog of dust and dirt tickled his nose, clearly visible in the bright shafts of light that streamed through a long row of green-painted windows. Rick turned around to face the three young men behind him, Brian Malloy, Chris Antonelli and Jason McCoy. One look at the face-splitting grins that lit up their faces and he knew what their decision was. "Ok, guys," Rick said, rolling up his shirtsleeves and dusting off his hands, "Let's turn this place into a nightclub."