Omahans near and far, sleuths, snoops and the merely curious, thank you for meeting with us again. This is Part Two of the Hidden House series. If you have not yet read Hidden House Part One, here is the link to get you started. Mysteries of
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Hello dear friends, I am so glad we have gathered together again. As the Guy Lombardo song goes, “Seems like old times, having you to walk with. Seems like old times, having you to talk with.” I am always glad to share our special time and let
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I have always felt that winter was the absolute best time of year for house spying, what without all of the beautiful, interfering foliage, the disturbing undergrowth, the distracting flowers, all forms of plant life that normally wink and
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My obsession with Frank Salontay began quite innocently. I was actually shadowing his short-lived business partner and sometimes rival, hairdresser Robert Siegmann. At one time Siegmann lived in a mansion I began spying when I started the
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The Miller-Knuth Chevrolet Garage occupied the northeast corner of 18th and Howard, just north of the historic triangular Flatiron Building with points at 17th Street, St. Mary’s Avenue and Howard. The garage opened in 1947 and its streamlined
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If one had been in the desperate habit of falling deeply in love with unattainable brick English country homes, the great beauty settled at 1111 South 90th Street would have long ago proposed a perilous catch. I say perilous only because loving
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ORDER YOUR BOOK ONLINE To order from University of Nebraska Press (UNP), click here. To order from Amazon, click here.
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When I was judged to be just old enough, my mother gave me her 1940’s dollhouse. This was not any old dollhouse. Mother of Miss Cassette had first viewed it and its building specs in a Popular Mechanics magazine at her Aunt Etta and Uncle Hank’s
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Dear Friends and Fellow Amateur Detectives, As I sit in my office on this dark, drippy day, I am happy to announce the My Omaha Obsession: Searching for the City book is now out and available for purchase. Those of
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There is no chance for creeping on North 89th Circle without a tinge of house-stalking shame. If you are not endowed with thick skin or wearing a very good disguise, don’t even think about turning off of Burt Street. But here I am to entice. The