That's a great deal of sign for a small hotel. And it seems perilously large for the support beams. In fact, it seems to be a chunk of the Great Sign, chainsawed off and hauled to Springfield, Tennesee. Unlike most small motels, the Key had a mascot: let's call himMr. Key. Or rather: Colonel Key. He seems to be attired in Rebel garb, holding out his hat with a yahoo-howl of pleasure over handing the oversized and presumably ceremonial key to you, the worthy traveller. Unless you're a Northerner. Why, suh, ah suggest you keep on a-movin'. Good day to you.

Current Street View shows it's gone.