And now it’s time to play “Allergies, or Cold?” I think it’s the latter, because I don’t have allergies, but what if I do? Some late-onset sensitivity or something. On the other hand, I’ve started to feel weary and fuzzy on the margins, so I don’t think it’s allergies. On the gripping hand, I don’t have any of the congestion signs, just a bit of a raw throat, with one (1) sneeze today. Woke up congested, but it went away. It’s maddening. SHOW YOURSELF, SO THAT I MAY FIGHT THEE

Not much to say today, because I’m not in the mood. We will have to make do with pictures. I went to lunch with Eric Dayton, the scion or descendent of the local department store clan, the business from which Target sprang. Months ago I wrote a piece on the skyways, saying “Yay, skyways, and fie to those who want to take them down.” He wants to take them down. I was not surprised when he called and wanted to have lunch, and I responded by accepting the offer, proposing pistols at dawn, and I said my seconds would call.

It was a nice, civil, interesting conversation between two people who had fundamental disagreements, and while neither of us convinced the other I think each got a better understanding of a contrary position. Ended with good will and a promise to do it again soon, and to find some common project upon which we could work.

So very Minnesotan, eh?

His restaurant was in the North Loop, where construction is constant - but that’s for tomorrow. Two buildings.

This one I’ve never really noticed, because I don’t spent a lot of tie in the North Loop. It’s immense.

  1890, it said. A young city and a young state, and civilization was sufficiently advanced where a structure like this wasn’t unusual.

The Commutator:

It’s slated for inclusion in a new project, if they get it going. The ancient industrial building will be incorporated into a new structure:

It’s a rich part of town, formerly factories and warehouses and supply houses, and people are pouring into it to live. I have no desire to do so, but bully for them.

On the way I stopped to take a picture of an abandoned church that sits on the edge of downtown. I never noticed it until a few months ago.

It's an abandoned Christian Science church. It's been vacant and rotted for quite some time. Newspaper accounts say it was taken over by the Occupy movement seven years ago. The interior is defaced by scrawls and symbols.

It waits for a bidder - $37K ought to do it. These days, the best for which it can hope is a future as a nightclub.








After yesterday’s visit to Corsicana via its newspapers, let’s take a look around the town itself. I didn’t plan to do these one-two takes, but it’s often the clippings that send me to the town, and it seems a natural thing to share the trip.

We start with a fine old terra-cotta bank building. The original was slanted, so I redid it to look like the pictures in the brochures. Buildings are always pointier in the promotional images.



Fine tracery and original leaded glass, but the window frames are not a good sign.

The other sides aren’t clad, because they presumed other buildings would follow. They did not.

Online accounts say it was built in 1926, but I’ve found a lot of ads from 1925 that show the building.

Ah, Corsicana, land of contrasts


It would be cool if this was a public-safety complex where you had to petition for a restraining order.

The door height always fools you.

Looks like they got the door from Home Depot.

If you say so

What does that shape in the background tell you?


Restored. Its Cinematreasures page has an interesting shot: A display for a Pickford movie fun 1922.

Some aggressively stupid modern improvements at work here.

The classical columns holding up the awning is a really nice touch.

I love the 20s.


That is a perfect piece of mid-century design:


No one ever thought “I wonder where the elevators could be.”

Maybe they’re not in the corner. It’s an odd thing to put on the corner - a featureless slab - but it does anchor the building nicely, and give it weight.

Twin sons of different mothers:


Here’s what I mean.


Friends, or rivals?

Not a trace of the old building remains.



There’s no one left alive who remembers what it looks like. But if the screen came down, we might see what they saw. Not that the screen needs to come down! By now this sort of post-war revision is historical.

Can you guess?


The apostrophe is your friend. It was a department store. Not the sort of sign you usually see for a department store. I’ve no idea when it closed, but it was The store, if I can judge by the ads and fawning press accounts.

Oh, cheer up

No one’s laughing now

Sometimes I like them better when they’re not restored.

The “Soda Fountain” addition doesn’t match the 40s style of the Dr Pepper sign. If you’re wondering whether someone added the . To Dr by mistake, it was Dr. Pepper in the early years.

Makes sense you’d want one of those, since a breeze is obviously out of the question.

You might doubt they actually sell those here anymore.

An old warehouse, complete with a Tetanus Awning

Judging from the color and the brick, I’d say that’s a very late example of downtown screen renovation. Great signage. They really did bring some life back to town.

Even though it’s ugly.

See? Faded is better sometimes.

Faded is more evocative.

I can’t begin to tell you what was bricked up and why and how the windows fit the design or why they covered up every other window up top.

Someone could, but he’s probably staring at the wall in a home, because no one comes to visit and ask such things.


The doors seem too narrow for cars.

Perhaps that’s why it’s closed. They could sell ‘em, but couldn’t get ‘em out.



One clue to the building’s original purpose, and one only. Go!

If you’ve been following this feature for a while, you’ll know it. And it doesn’t make you odd at all.

That'll do - see you tomorrow.





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