There are sad tales in every downtown, and the Merchants is one of them. It began as a tidy brick building next to the Black building, adorned with just enough terra cotta to tell you they were doing well, but not so much that you’d worry they were eating the seed corn. The corner window was blocked up, which disturbed me as a kid; I recall telling my dad that’s where the bankers jumped out after the crash of ’29. Eventually the bank moved to a new location across from the Gate City to the structure above.

You get the point: post-JFK modernism, with those eyebrown awnings and arched faux columns. Black brick. Black glazed brick. But it had something more . . .