12,500 souls. Founded, it seems, by accident. Literally: "In 1857, the steamboat Hannibal, carrying 300 passengers up the Missouri River from St. Louis, Missouri to Nebraska City, Nebraska, ran aground near Kansas City, Missouri. While it was stranded, 35 of the passengers agreed to form the "Nebraska Association", under which name they would unite in seeking a townsite and establishing a settlement in the territory."

Let’s have a look around.

For once, the cupola didn’t burn.

But the lack of trim on the top makes it look like it got a haircut. Still, a classic midwest medium small-town view. Nice!

The German National Bank was probably closed in 1917, I’m guessing.

Oh would it kill me to do some research. No it would not.

The German National Bank was chartered in 1887 and moved into this building owned by bank president, Charles R. Dietrich in 1889. The bank's name appealed to the large number of German-born area settlers, and bank tellers spoke both German and English.

The United States entered World War I in April 1917 and excessive patriotism soon resulted in extreme anti-German sentiment. In a large newspaper ad dated April 20, 1917 the bank proclaimed its Americanism and announced its name had been changed to The Nebraska National Bank.

Of course it did.

They look old and humiliated.

It must have seemed apparent to everyone that this was a mistake, right off the bat:

I’ve never seen decorations quite like this.

Wonder what the ground floor looked like, way back before the vandals rode into town.

Quite the elegant, elaborate, prosperous structure - once upon a time.

The space on the right was beaten up rather badly - bricked in parts, with the ground floor arch disconnected from everything, hid behind a sign.

Almost Moorish in its incessant detail:

Covering up the windows and tarting it up with paint? That’s Ruud.

I always wonder if the Sons had any choice, or whether there was one who left town, only to return later and try to get a piece of the action.

Great sign, but . . .

There’s a combo you just don’t see too often. Honest, though.

The little Holly:

Still open, it seems; converted to digital, which is good. It opened as the Rialto, changed to the Victory in ’43, became the Holly in ’55. It’s part of the theater district, it seems, because right across the street . . .

Is another. “The Holly Theatre name is currently used for the Cinema Centre & Holly Theatre which is located across the street, and is operated by the same company.” Cinema Treasures. Not exactly sure what that means.

Classic Fifties overhaul - always gave the main street a sober, button-down, grey-flannel suit look.

Next door is this handsome Moderne survivor, the old Sears store:

At least when old downtown died, it left something substantial.

Oh yes: a very modern parking ramp, no doubt hailed as the savior to downtown shopping. Park & Shop tickets given!

OUMB:

Finally:

It’s time for the boards to come down from the windows, the bricks to be knocked out. There’s a lot downtown, and you can’t help wonder - what happened?

I.e., where’s the Wal-Mart or the mall?