Our second look at Jackson. I must have had a quick hand and low standards when I did this town.

The Durante Building on the left was poorly served by its postwar rehab.

The metal fell off and no one cared to put it back up. Then it was lost, and no one knew where to get a replacement.

Like the shiny skin of freshly-healed scabs:

One of those rehabs that make a building look like it’s wearing an uncomfortable, tight-fitting mask.

Ah, that’s a beaut.

“The new door will reference the pediment on the top and tie it all together!”

(Later)

“Really doesn’t, does it.”

I wonder if that brick expanse was original. It’s possible.

Roman embassy, with bizarre capitols on the columns. That’s no order I’ve ever seen.

Good a name as any, I suppose:

Opened in 1935.

I don’t know why, but this shot makes me feel wistful, and a bit sad.

The over-the-sidewalk awning: downtown’s response to suburban strip malls.

Busy and not entirely top-notch A-level design, but it’s fun.

MATUSKA & SKALICKY

Flickr:

Built in 1919 by Frank Matuska and Emil Skalicky to house Skalicky's hardware store. It also had a doctor's hospital on the second floor in the 1920’s.

Try to keep this straight:

When Emil Joseph Skalicky was born on 24 August 1877, in York, Dane, Wisconsin, United States, his father, Frank S. Skalicky, was 31 and his mother, Therese Betlach, was 33. He married Anna Agnes Matuska on 23 November 1898, in Jackson, Minnesota, United States.

Obviously, the same architect, and thus we presume another Matuska / Skalicky production.

It was a theater:

The history:

The Grand Theatre was built by local businessmen Frank Matuska and Emil Skalicky in 1913. It was sold in 1923, and the Matuska family went on to build the nearby State Theatre in 1926.

And here’s their next theater.

Cinematreasures has a note from the owners:

Opened as the Sandon Theatre prior to 1925. It was renamed State Theatre in 1929. Wonderful theatre for such a small town. We purchased and re-opened this theatre three years ago. We currently operate seven days a week and play first run movies.

Good for them.

The windows on the left say . . .

BEING AN ADULT MEANS LEARNING HOW TO DIE

Okay

The back of the theater. Makes me wonder about the original name. Sandon. A combination of names? Doesn’t seem like it. Perhaps - most likely - a nod to a local Solon, or a descendent who operated it.

The rare and dreaded Buckaroo Cowcatcher.

Finally: whoa.

The building’s official page mentions its notable murals, but does it have any pictures?

Hell no.