Ghost Signs, Fort Smith

While taking a jaunt through the back streets of Fort Smith via streetcar (about which more later), I snapped a few shots of some old, industrial ghost signs. The above advertises the "Atkinsons-Williams Hardware Co." on the side of a building that's likely abandoned. The company evidently "dominated the tinware trade in the region." Another ghost sign after the jump.

DO NOT PARK ON TRACKS

Google Map

There are no tracks near this sign. Nor do I think the modern Little Rock police would hand-paint a sign like this. This is the Cox Building - part of the Central Arkansas Library System. All of the buildings around this one are ancient, re-purposed. This week we'll explore them.

My city, 1910

Google Map. Open in a new tab for super-size.

Little Rock, my city. From the Arkansas River, 1910. Very little of this scene still exists today. The Capital Hotel is a notable survivor and its roof can be seen behind the flat water tower just right of center. Also quite visible are the painted ads that would today be ghost signs.

Image courtesy of Shorpy.

"The Standard" Ghost Sign, Nashville

Downtown Nashville

"The Standard" is a restaurant in an ornate, 1840s Italianate townhouse to the left of this sign - apparently Nashville's only remaining of its kind (Photos). It looks to me like there's an older ad underneath the Standard one. The Sears sign from yesterday is on the other side of this building.

"SEARS" Ghost Sign, Nashville

Downtown Nashville.

This one tried to hide from me, the bugger. I don't know if the Sears advertised is the same one that exists now. Did Sears ever sell farm equipment?

Ghost Sign, Nashville

Downtown Nashville

Ghost signs are everywhere! I doubt this one is particularly old or historic, but I'll save those for later, and meanwhile, enjoy a pretty sunset view in Nashville.

Snapshot - Another ghost sign by the river

Too lazy for a Google Map. But it's right next to this one

This business, which apparently belonged to "BRANDON," now advertises mainly to a dumpster and a no-parking zone. Occasionally weird people like me come along to pay homage to the ghosts.

Exploration - Fairfield, Illinois

There's something about a city's downtown. It's the easiest way to get a snapshot of what the town is, who lives there and what values exist. I see a dead downtown as evidence of a dead, or dying town. It's also the place easiest to find visible history.

So a month or so ago we took a couple hours to walk around downtown Fairfield, Illinois. How did it measure up?

Snapshot - Ghost Sign, River Market

Google Map

Ornate brickad for a long-defunct business. The sign might have advertised to river or rail traffic; the only folks wandering this way now are joggers, hobos and tourists. Note the modern advertising on the upper left.

Snapshot: Ghost Sign, Little Rock

Google Map

A ghost sign spotted on President Clinton Avenue in downtown Little Rock.

It's pronounced "CAR-my"

A long drive to a country town is always a good way to experience the way highways used to function: passing right through the proper of a variety of little hamlets. Since I've been to Jenna's hometown of Albion so many times, a few of the preceding villages are like old friends of mine. Some of them, like Grayville, Crossville and Mt. Carmel have been mentioned on here before.

In fact, I've spoken of Carmi before in my last batch of movie theaters . Their Showtime Cinema was a favorite quick-glance-from-the-passenger-side sight. Recently, we finally got a chance to explore the town.



We've seen it all before, of course. Rows of grandfatherly business buildings, some populated, some renovated tastelessly, many vacant. Very few people--although I grant it was a very cold day. This NOT being Arkansas, however, there was a bit more to see than usual, and quite a few extraordinarily beautiful buildings.



The folks of Carmi call this fantastic collage of late 19th century styles "The Castle." Like most beautiful buildings in this country, it faced destruction in the latter half of the 20th century, but a group of historic historians saved it. It faces the courthouse just on the edge of downtown. Take a look at the little winged creatures on the rooftops.



The 1883 courthouse is the seat of Illinois' version of White County. Ours, however, is older (1870s) and commands more of a presence in Searcy's square. Carmi's downtown is more a thoroughfare, however, whereas Searcy's is a square.

Oh! There are some ghost signs.



"TIMES" probably stands for "Carmi Times," whose building is close to the river. Take a look at this picture of their amazing streamline modern sign on their current building (from my old favorite Roadside Architecture; good LORD she's been everywhere).


The entire side of this building was once a sign. "GRADE CHEWING" of course stands for the stuff stuck between Babe Ruth's teeth.


Not really a ghost sign, I know. But it is a beautifully sculpted logo on the side of a (I believe) vacant building that was once a Ford showroom. Wow! Back from the days when car showrooms actually fit INSIDE of our towns. "The Universal Car" is apparently what Henry "in the year of our" Ford dubbed his inventions way back in 1908. This sign may be that old.

Here are some more photos from in and around the business district.



A residence (I believe now used as a funeral home) with some serious Ionic columns. The fountain out front tends to freeze in a picturesque fashion in the colder months. Here is a fantastic picture of the latter.



A very 1960s exterior job on one of the downtown buildings. This business no longer exists but the neon work has been preserved.



A radio station now lives in what once was a neoclassical bank.



This is a very old-looking and well-kept house a few streets over from Main. The steel roof is unfortunate, but at least is colored tastefully. I wouldn't be surprised if this were one of the older buildings in town.



Evidence of train industry is still moldering a few blocks away from Main. There are a few abandoned factories and warehouses, including some old ghosts like this one. I couldn't find a depot at all; it may be lurking somewhere back there, but wind burn precluded a more thorough search.

On the way back to Albion, we stopped in a mucky drive to take this final picture:



These are the bones of a drive-in theater screen. The grounds nearby are mostly home now to a selection of rusting vehicles and other trash. I wanted to go farther back and see if any more of the theater remained standing, but there was the aforementioned wind burn and muck, so we retreated.

Until our paths cross again,
Jonesy

October Special: Part 3

October is a time for phantoms, specters, and revenants to wander the earth unchallenged. And what are more ghostly than ghost signs?



Signs peer out from behind peeled back plaster, like this nearly-unidentifiable example in Morrilton, Arkansas.



Astral beings are the only souls slinking through the old square in tiny Newark, Arkansas. Perhaps the apparition of the wall dog that painted this sign across from the railroad haunts the shadows of this building.



Whatever hotels still exist in Paris have certainly now been banished to sprawl zones, leaving this the only indicator of any such business.



This rust-colored wall in Paris has boiled away enough to show some of its previous identities.



The oldest building in Russellville is also an epitaph for Selz, a defunct brand of shoes, as well as a meat market, among other things. An enterprising denizen of the 21st century also has left his transient mark on the building.



The flesh of downtown Wynne's carcass is beginning to slough off, revealing sinewy ghost signs. This building's signs in particular seems to be reflecting the dismal conditions of the tarp-covered goods being sold in front of its facade. The face of this building reminds me of an afflicted older gentleman, gazing silently at the rot surrounding him and attempting to stand tall over it. I can only hope that he succeeds.



The side of the same building is a pale wipe of signs, all of them as mysterious as the cemented-in windows.



The ancient text "Royal Crown" is creeping out from under the "Wholesale Parts" sign, perhaps betraying an earlier, more glamorous purpose for this building. I'll leave you with this sad reminder of the state of almost all of Arkansas's dead and dying small towns. Be wary, this October 31st, when the souls of the dead walk the earth, of the wandering spirits of Arkansas. I am not so sure they will be happy with us.

-Jonesy

(P.S.: I recently wrote an article on ghost signs for the Arkansas Farm Bureau magazine "Front Porch," which should be coming out sometime this week or next. Hurrah for being published!)

Two more old theaters (and one new one)

It's two hours past midnight and I can't stop thinking about theaters. Is..is there something wrong with me? Probably. Anyway, I know I just posted about theaters, but I don't think I can sleep until I unload a little bit.

We took a small-highway exploration drive back from Fort Smith last weekend, both to avoid the monotony of the interstate, and to scour some small towns for ghost signs. But I also found things like this!



The Savage theater (what an awesome name) in Booneville is one of the more recent of the theaters we've talked about, having opened in 1947 with a movie called Suddenly in Spring. The facade could use a paint job, and the plastic letters in the marquee look like they haven't been changed since 1947, but the Savage otherwise is a pretty nice piece. It evidently still shows movies on weekends, too.



The Strand lies in the faraway world of Rockland, Maine. You can always tell the older small theaters by their entirely-brick structure, sometimes with retail spaces sandwiching the main entrance. The Strand was built in 1923. Here's a postcard from the official site from its good ol' days:



Not much has changed! The theater remained in full operation right up until 2000, even having its balcony renovated to make way for a second screen. Then, some nearby multiplex bought it. Did they use their power to restore the building, bringing about a new genesis for the 87-year-old venue? No. They just closed it. Did I say something about being positive about the 21st century? I'm taking it back now.

But fortunately this story has a happy ending. The theater was bought in 2004 by a local admirer, who managed to get it restored and reopened by 2005. The reopening was celebrated by a block party and a showing of Buster Keaton's The General. Admission was priced at 25 cents, harking back to a more awesome time. Maine: the way life should be. It's true.

Next, here's a New Theatre for you.



You don't see it? Take a closer look.



Whoa! That is a ghost of a ghost sign. So yes; I lied. The New Theatre, located in downtown Fort Smith, Arkansas, is actually the oldest theater in this post, having opened in 1911 as a Vaudeville stage. The first inkling I got of this lost treasure was from this remarkable facade:



The (marble, I believe) title above the awning reads "Sparks, 1922." On the right and left of the awning are two retail spaces, now used for a small cafe and a used book store, respectively. Under the awning is this art deco door:



The lady in the bookstore kindly informed me that this door was once an entrance to the New Theatre, which she referred to as the "Old Malco Theater." The New was bought by the Malco company in the 40s and was then switched to an entirely movie-centric venue. Around the corner is what I believe to be the original entrance.



The 1911 date coincides with the same year the New was built, and shares an architect with the bookstore's facade ("Sparks," who I know nothing about). Some of the concrete blocks making up the sides of the facade are chipped and missing like teeth. Whatever decorative entrance used to be under the grand arch is now covered with plywood and modern steel doors, and Christmas lights adorn the covering. Two great rusted chains, which might have once supported a marquee, now dangle pointlessly. And take a look at the gargoyle-esque head in the middle of the arch:



Click to enlarge; somewhere down the line he seems to have partially swallowed a wasp nest.

When we peered through the windows at street level, we could see tremendous, vaulted ceilings and decaying areas which obviously once held chandeliers. Mold and rot had built up everywhere. On my new favorite site I was able to find a picture of the interior of the New Theatre:



It's a small image, but still. Good Lord. I am informed that a then-relatively-unknown Al Jolson performed here once upon a time.

As the pictures might tell you, the tale of the New Theatre does not have a happy ending like that of the Strand. It's a gigantic and painstakingly beautiful product of a time when our entertainment spaces were just as amazing as the entertainment itself. And it's been left here, deserted, to decompose since 1980. Is it funny, that we travel to places like Paris and London for their meticulously preserved streets and buildings, when we used to have the same things? We've just let asphalt and Alzheimer's pave them over. But I guess it's time to lay the New Theatre, disdain for progress, and myself to rest. Perhaps someday I'll come to forgive my culture for being too eager for its own good. But that day is not today.

-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