Here’s some good news.

"The population was 4,585 at the 2010 census. It is the county seat of Johnson County.[6] In recent years, the town has boomed economically due to methane production from the coal bed methane extraction method used in the Powder River Basin and surrounding areas."

A nice statement: we’re strong enough to build something tall and beautiful, but not pound-foolish - the back’s going to be brick.

Some history:

Among the more impressive of San Angelo's bank buildings is the one at the northeast corner of Chadbourne and Beauregard. Known as The Trust Building, between 1914 and 1966 it housed Central National Bank.

Construction on the Trust Building began in 1908, with the Trust Building Co. financing the effort. C.C. Walsh, president of the San Angelo Bank & Trust, owned the Trust Building Co.

It was one of the first skyscrapers in San Angelo, rising six stories above street level. Estimates vary, but it cost somewhere between $132,500 and $250,000 to build.

It became the Central National Bank after a while.

Same piece:

By December 1966, Central National Bank had moved to today's Wells Fargo Bank building, abandoning its rococo home one block east.

That is an OUMB, but I like it.

I’d like to think it’s been rehabbed for senior housing by now.

IWhy? Because, as you must suspect, it was . . .

A hotel! Googling . . .

Built in the late 1920s as The Rainbow Hotel — a nod to the “Rainbow’s End: San Angelo” sign over the Chadbourne Street and Beauregard Avenue intersection, the city’s slogan at the time — the building has had a plethora of owners and served a variety of purposes.

Pictures from the inside, pre-renovation, post-abandonment.

"The architect was a strange fellow. Hopped a lot, bobbed his head constantly, was completely covered with feathers.”

Broken top, as if a big sign fell and took some chunks with it.

Something about that says “Movie Theater.” Checking . . . I was right! It was the Rex.

Look at the way the building frames the floors, recesses the windows - it’s a nice dramatic approach, presenting the interior like a big stage surrounded by a proscenium.

I swear they built one of these in every town in the 50s.

Nearer my God to Mies, as I said.

The usual signs of a dead retail district: an old variety store now selling antiques, and a classic piece of 60s rehab untouched.

It’s like Vesuvius erupted and kept it preserved.

“So before I design your building, sir, I just need to know how much light you want, on a scale of one to ten. One? One it is.”

“Dispatch, I’m at the location, the call was shots fired, see the man behind the red door. Looking for additional information, over.”

The past slumbers forever while the future moseys past, bearing things the original occupants could scarcely conceive:

Given the style and height, I’m guessing everyone went bust on this one:

The Beauregard Tower. Can’t find any history, except “completed 1929.” Trust me, they went broke.

Your basic compact, serene, self-contained government building:

“Vaguely Moorish Moderne” was not a big style, but it had its charms.

Another variety store given over to the accumulated detritus of the dead. It’s like they gave it a suit of armor with a tiny visor, so it could see.

Finally: my gosh, that's . . . Texas-sized.

Cinema Treasures:

The theater appears to have been derelict for some time, and it looked like someone was working on it in 2004, but nothing happened. The interior looks rather stripped down, and the lobby was glassed in at some point with the removal of the external ticket booth. Old painted ads are still visible on the back which proclaim that the Texas Theatre is ‘the largest and finest in the West’.

The theatre is for sale at $150,000.00 but it would need $6m for restoration.

We can only hope.