Three thousand souls - and that seems drastically insufficient for the architecture you’re about to see.
And it’s lit up at night, too.
Opened as the Roxy in 1936; changed to the Utah in the 50s, perhaps because the name fit on the marquee.
More photos here. The interior seems the least of it.
Nice clean renovation: a boon to any downtown.
“The president jumped out of the window in ’29, and we closed it up out of his memory.”
The outside doesn’t match the interior splendor:
The website says:
It had the usual story:
OF COURSE THEY DID. Idiots.
More great script signage. I’m rapidly growing quite fond of this place.
It had better light up.
Old J. R. was slightly deaf, and tended to shout his words:
From the Logan historical page:
Don’t know if it was a bank, but it wanted to be.
It’s the corner position that makes it seem banky, as well as the vague suggestion of columns.
It’s so clean. Everything is so clean.
Even the trees, for once, seem apt. And you know how I feel about the tree-planting-downtown-revival idea. They don't necessairly make downtowns more attractive. Stores and signs, that's what does it. When a tree dies - as they always do downtown, always - there's a big grate in the sidewalk with an empty space or a stump.
This I cannot explain.
Avert your eyes, children. Don't point at the poor unfortunate.
Into each town, a little 70s must fall.
Those brick arches and odd windows were all the rage for a while, and have dated poorly like few other architectural designs. Possibly because they're ugly, and seem so sure that they aren't.
Hurrah for perpendicular signage, a downtown's best friend:
More neon next door, too.
I'm sure a place as clean and prosperous-looking as this hides Dark Secrets and Hidden Passions, etc., but which place doesn't?