October Special: Part 2

When we drive to see Jenna's family in Albion, we always pass through a little town called Grayville. Like most small towns in rural Illinois, it has a crystallized downtown and some of those token treasures I always seek out, like ghost signs and old theaters.

However, there's one other thing in the town of Grayville that I had always heard about, denoted by pointing fingers and hushed tones.



Far up on a hill on the edge of town, there is an overgrown field. The old bones of some sport equipment poke up through the earth, calling back to a time when this field was frequently beaten by the cleats of young residents of Grayville. But the field is antiquated, as is its host building just beyond its borders.



Rising above the weeds of the old field is the ghost of Grayville's original high school. The vehement claim of "1911" looms over the bulging doric columns framing the building's doorway.



Any doubts of the building's original purpose are whispered away by the words "PUBLIC SCHOOL" rendered in terse capitals over the doorway. But no students have passed through these doors in at least forty years.



All the marks of a long-abandoned building are present: window panes yawn with gaping holes; names of errant vandals are scrawled on stone surfaces; smells of asbestos and decaying plaster waft out of the wounds sustained by time. The ragged teeth marks of an unchallenged storm still mark the entire right side of the building; a combination of questionable ownership, lack of funds, and general disinterest conspire to keep the high school in this partially-dismembered state.



Quoins and bricks and cinder blocks litter the ground like scattered entrails. Like most abandoned buildings we find, we did not enter this one, wary of poisonous air, wilting ceilings, indwelling monsters, patrolling officers, or a combination of the above. But despite this monolith's slow dissolution, it still dominates the hill as a symbol of the power and respect an education once offered. I see this high school as a defiant figure, challenging any new Styrofoam-and-plaster laden modern school to climb its hill and fight it in a battle of pure majesty. There is no doubt in my mind that this rotting sentinel would win that battle any day.

-Jonesy

A gift for the theatrical

A while ago I talked about old theaters in White County. Whenever I drive around in old towns, one of the first things I look for (up there with ghost signs and train stations) are its theaters. Sometimes it's almost masochistic, because while I love to see old theaters, they tend to be in such disrepair that I almost feel wounded.



Sheridan's theater represents what's usually the barest minimum the remnant of a town's theater. The facade has been wiped clean, the windows painted over and the steel art moderne awning is eroded. The ghost of "SCOUNT" is printed on the facade, suggesting this building has been used for more than movies. It at least still is recognizable as a theater, as long as you know generally what theaters looked like. I do suppose it's in better condition than Kensett's poor guy.



This one in Grayville, Illinois has joined a host of other old theaters in becoming a concert venue. Though the whole effect of the building is pretty unassuming, there are a few curious things to be spotted: a mysterious "W" adorning the front of the marquee (probably referring to the theater's original name); a pair of glass-cube windows (present on many 1940s-60s theaters); and two loudspeakers mounted on the top of the marquee for whatever reason.



The gorgeous Malco theater in downtown Hot Springs has been restored and is now the home of the Hot Springs Documentary Film Institute. Most of Hot Springs' downtown district is pretty nice, but once you hike out of the National Park area, you tend to find some areas that have seen better days.



Just down the street from the Malco is the waning Central theater, which must have had a more elaborate marquee in better times. Older times were better times for most of the street around the Center theater; many of the neighboring buildings are vacant or home to last-legs type institutions like bars and antique stores.



The Melba of downtown Batesville (one of my favorite downtowns in this area) is an art deco theater fairly similar to Searcy's Rialto both in design and function: the Melba still shows movies. Down the street from the Melba is another excellent specimen.



Though I am not certain, the Landers appears to be an older theater, judging by its brick facade. The signage probably came later. As you can tell from the picture, the Fellowship Bible Church (which is gigantic and rich, if you didn't know) have bought out the building. They have since gutted out the inside. I don't think they're going to change the exterior, but even with this the town of Batesville have gotten rather peeved at them. I am mildly peeved as well, but I can think of worse uses for the building. As a bonus, here is an old picture of the Landers, which I found at the Independence County Museum:



Note, of course, the different sign and marquee. I can't decide which I like more, the old art deco rounded letters or the more 1950s-style separated neon ones.

I kinda feel like adding in a bit of bitter old-man-ish talk about how much better old theaters are than new ones, but I'm not an old man yet. I'm still trying to find things that I like about the 21st century, though, so I guess I'll try to be positive. We have air conditioning and multiple screens! Yayy...(I'm bitter).

I'm going on a little road trip this weekend between here and Fort Smith, so I ought to come back with a lot more stuff. That's good news!

-Jonesy

More Snapshots

My first post for August of 2009! I have a lot of pictures, but right now I'm a little bit at a loss for what to post (I haven't been exploring in a while), so here are some snapshots.



Old Ford dealership, Conway



Abandoned gas station, Beebe



The Gray Mansion, Grayville, IL



The Arlington Hotel, a former hideout of Al Capone, Hot Springs



Drive-in movie theater, Mountain View (still in business!)



Train wrecker, Railroad museum, Pine Bluff



The Old Port, Portland, ME



Abandoned storefronts, Grayville, IL



Highly unusual bridge, somewhere in Maine



25 Fullerton Street, Boothbay Harbor, ME (my childhood home; beige when I lived there; historically a mid-1800s carriage house)

-Jonesy

Ghost Signs: Part 3

Location: Grayville, IL

Ghost Signs are prevalent not only in Arkansas, but all over the country. Whenever I'm driving anywhere, I'm always looking for signs. This sign in Illinois is still a mystery to me. I can make out the words "Mercury," "Book" and maybe "Job," but the rest is confusing. This sign's days are numbered.

But what I'd really like to talk about are the ghost signs I saw in Maine.


Location: Old Port, Portland

In Maine, the ghost signs aren't ghosts! Well, that's not entirely accurate. There isn't a paper company in that building, nor do I expect has there been in many years. But the sign has clearly been maintained and loved, just like almost everything with artistic value in Maine. Portland had the vast majority of the ghost signs I saw in Maine, but some other cities delivered as well.


Location: Camden

This is just the faint ghost of a ghost sign. Camden is a beautiful coast town close to Mount Battie, from the top of which Edna St. Vincent Millay derived the inspiration for the opening lines of her famous poem "Renascence."


Location: Rockland

When we got off of the Maine Eastern Railroad (more on that later) into Rockland, we did a good bit of exploring its excellent downtown. The above ghost sign seems to either be undergoing repainting, or the whole building is and the sign will soon be obscured. Millay was born in Rockland.


Location: Bath

My changing interests are reflected in this specimen, since when I actually lived in Bath I never noticed it. Now it's one of my favorites.


Location: Portland

Can you see this one? Trained eyes might notice the colossal "S" peeking out at the very top of this building that was probably once a factory. Note that all the windows are blocked in with cement now. When we walked around the perimeter, I noticed an artist has his studio in a small part of this building. Oh, Maine.

For the rest of this entry, I give you an exhaustive gallery of ghost signs found in Portland's old port. There are too many to give individual attention to each, so enjoy the pretty pictures. As always, click to enlarge!




Location: Also Portland

As a coda, I'd mention that while most modern wall-signage is reduced to the above sort of thing, a group in New York is doing something entirely different. A commentor on my previous post pointed me towards his blog, Ghost Signs, in which he and he fellows track down the signs in the United Kingdom. He also linked me to a video of the group I mentioned painting their own (classy) ads on buildings in NYC, streamed below.



So now when you're walking down your favorite downtown avenue and you see a fading ad for Nehi soda or Optima Flour, you can think of your old pal Luke.

-Jonesy