The number of dry old "Last Picture Show" Texas towns exceeds my ability to populate this feature, should I live another 50 years.
4500 souls. Let’s have a look around.
A fine old building, and unusual - rusticated styles are usually lighter.
Odd windows, suggesting a graceless rehab that also ruined the ground floor.
On its third century. Which sounds more impressive than 120 years, but 120 years is pretty good.
It was quite the undertaking:
The history of its occupants and customers would contain legends, if we knew it.
For goodness sakes, put up an awning! People are dying of heatstroke before they file their taxes, and perishing in arrears!
No reason to have any windows upstairs, everyone agreed around 1957.
When the Depression hit, the government went with a modern style that suggested it would be an efficient machine for justice and prosperity. I like the style, but now and then it’s severe to the point of pitilessness.
This is one of those times.
Sign removal reveals a bygone name:
More rustication. The bright red hat is nice, but the building doesn’t seem too eager to announce what it’s for.
Fire station, I’d guess. The door, the pole.
As we say here from time to time, that building materials salesman really cleaned up when he came to this town. They were standing in line to place an order.
You can still see some for the famous Jacksonville stone hanging on the right side.
Edward . . . something burn.
This one competes with the first one we saw. The entire street is lined with this type of stone.
Whatever impression they were trying to make, they made it.
(Sorry about the google manipulation square.)
One more thing:
You can still see the old Purina sign. They didn’t pry it off. They just painted over it.
Maybe some day they’d sell Purina again. Never can tell.