Five thousand souls. Nickname: "Art and Soul of Mississippi." Wikipedia:

Middleton, Mississippi was a town that developed in the 19th century two miles west of Winona's site. Some locals consider it the predecessor to Winona. After the railroad was built to the east of Middleton, development shifted to what became Winona, bypassing Middleton.

Some locals. Just ask them. Oh yes, no question, they were the preceding town.

I frequently wonder why I start where I start, or clip the things I clip. For example: this isn’t particularly illuminative.

Nor is the second, unless I’m trying to give a scale of the place, and where the main street ended up. In this case . . .

Ah, now I know what I was doing. The first picture is the depot, and the tracks are gone. Which says something, I suppose. I like to follow the marks the rails made on the land, watch the old scar wander between tiny towns. But I'll spare you that today.

“What color should we paint the brick?"

“Red.”

“Okay. What red?”

“Brick red. But with a little something extra. I want the building to say tomato soup lightly diluted with cream.”

Never ornate, until it last days, when it received an unexpected upgrade to small-town elegance on the cheap.

Big sign on the side:

Can’t tell what it was, though.

Some words you hate to see removed.

Man, this town really took it in the neck.

Somehow the brick planter did not revive the city’s retail fortunes.

Fine clothing does not go with a Buckaroo revival awning.

At least on this one everyone eventually agreed.

Wonder if a Coke rep every saw the sign and the new pipe and complained. Aw hell, Frank, don't sweat it, everyone still knows what it’s sellin’.

The entrance looks like it got a spiffied up in the 30s:

The name in the tile: always a sign of confidence.

No matter how hard you try, the original purpose cannot be concealed.

It’s miserable, what they did. Just awful. At least the signage survived - and it’s not often you see something that says they didn’t hire a pro.

Odd shot; looks as if they applied a blur filter to everything except the old sign.

At some point they slapped on the stucco, but left the sign part uncovered. The Double Cola guy, he came by a lot, and he would sue.

15 Unique third floor. It’s like the building stopped, drew itself a cornice, then found its second wind and pushed upward again.

See above about "purpose concealing." Can't be done.

Is that the base for the brand's old sign?

Nice to see it’s looking good and still in business.

This one still carries the wall of its neighbor. What sort of ungainly decorations did it have? Look at the stone piled between the first and second floor.

Sometimes it’s hard to feel too sorry for old downtowns when these things were obviously done by the people who live there.

Star-Trek-set gate. Lord knows how long it’s been boarded. But fresh flowers!

And shrubs! That’ll bring downtown back.

“Mister Ed? He lives upstairs now.”

If it had some windows, you’d think it’s our Obligatory Ugly Modern Bank.

But it’s a church.