The Collaborative has opened! Months and months of work. The glass covered since last summer with promises and pictures. It was supposed to open in "Winter 2023," but, well, we don't take such things seriously anymore.

The new "Third-Space" relaxation and meeting space in our building. It used to be a bank.

I had an advance tour last week. This morning it was full of folks sampling the croissants and tartes.

Will this get people to come back to the office?

Of course not! Dynamite couldn't get them out of their chairs at home. People like things just the way they are.

Yes, it does have an upscale suburban hotel feeling. And that's fine.

I thought "Basquait after some mood elevating drugs" right away, and not as a good thing, as I think Basquait's work is infantile scribblings. Ran the painting through Google, and it comes back to this fellow, who, it turns out, found inspiration in Basquait.

Anyway, my new routine concerns working from here after the gym, which is also another gratis building amenity.

 

Our weekly recap of a Wikipedia peregrination. Expect no conclusion or revelations, but if you've been with us since this started next year, you know . . . sometimes we learn interesting things.

Not much today, alas.

   
  So! How do we get from here . . .
   
  . . . to there?
   
     

Looking at newspaper pages at random, check the news . . . lots of traffic accidents on the front page.

Did she make it? It looks as if she did. Someone with that name was married in 1956. It gets complicated after that and I’m not a genealogist, least of all for utter strangers just because they walked in front of a car. Hope she made it, and had a long and happy life.

(Sweet golly, I fine tuned some results, and as of 2023, someone with that name was still alive at the age of 93, which works out.)

The guy who hit her - and remember, she ran in front of his car - died in 1959.

The search also turned up a slew of images, with delightful team names:

No, the little girl who ran into traffic did not grow up to be a famous baseball player. The last name shows up, but it’s not here.

The parents, at the time of the wedding of the girl who got hit by the car, lived on Huron Boulevard. The house is gone, replaced by student apartments. Across the street:

That seemed odd, so I went back a few years. Ah.

What a dump. Look at the cheap ersatz columns. Something better and bigger will rise on the spot. How do I know? Well, let’s look up the street on Huron. Then:

Now:

Let’s go a few blocks more, turn around . . .

Now.

And here I had a sudden brain flash. Turn to the right . . .

An empty lot, and you’re waiting for the NOW picture. That is the NOW picture. It’s looked like this as long as the Google cars have been driving around. But I remembered: King’s.

King’s Food Host.

Most of them looked like this:

It looks as if they expanded too fast. At its peak, over 136 restaurants. Chapter 11 in the early 70s, but I remember the one in Minneapolis from high school trips, so it was still around.

They didn’t advertise much. I don’t know if they relied on signage and word-of-mouth. Here’s a rare ad for Thanksgiving:

And Easter:

Most of their ads are employment ads, and there’s a series that target empty-nester MOTHERS looking for something to do.

I remember the food: it was really good. The best part: you ordered by phone! There were phones in each booth! We’d never seen so many phones. It closed in the late 70s, I think; I was gone by then. But I never pass it in Fargo without thinking:

That’s King’s. Always will be. Odd how these places stick with you.

Like this:

Right by the highway. Many high school nights having coffee and pie.

Home, of course, of the Country Boy burger. And the Country Gal. Served with that special sauce! Which was, of course, Thousand Island.

 

 

 

 

   

 

 

Welcome to the town of Town:

"Etowah was founded in 1906, primarily as a location for a depot on the Louisville & Nashville Railroad(L&N) line as part of a more direct route between Atlanta and Cincinnati. The etymology of the town name is unclear, but local folklore states that a train crew brought a sign reading "Etowah" from the Etowah River, and the name stuck. The word Etowah comes from the Muskogee/Creek word italwa meaning 'town.'"

Of course, we know what this is. Or was.

I’m not saying they had a mold problem, but -

Did the second floor ever have any windows? Were they bricked up with absolute perfection, and a metal facade was added, and the black gunk appeared after the rays of the sun no longer baked the bricks?

Ah. Zooming in shows us more. Sheets of faux rocks.

Gah.

“I said, the children will live upstairs until they are six.”

Cheerful! It beats being abandoned, I guess, even though I’m not a big fan of painting the bricks.

Antiques now, alas; once was something more useful to the community. Drug store? Variety? Probably a chain, before it faded away.

“No, hear me out. If we do live in a simulation, wouldn’t it stand to reason that if it got overloaded somehow, and memory was in short supply, some of the things we were used to seeing would be suddenly in lower definition? Would we even notice?”

 

Opened as the Gem in 1906.

Rehabbed in the 20s, and again in the 21st century.

We’ll stop back later when it’s feeling better.

Oh, you, too? Well, there’s a lot of that going around.

 

When the Vitrolite falls off, you know it’s been empty a long while. But it might come back!

Or, it might not.

 

Sundry was actually the owner’s name. Went into partnership with Harold Various.

There’s something off about the scale of the people.

Ending with the same type of building that started the entry - with a little commentary in the right hand corner.

 

That'll do! This year's Urban Studies updates continues, with . . . more Google Street View, but with additional pretentiousness.

 

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