I was sitting in the office rambling at length about upcoming investigations, all the while Mr. Cross resentfully sighing and taking dictation, when the dispiriting correspondence came in. My recent examination of a Gold Coast ballroom and the
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There is one matter we need to discuss and for the life of me, I have no idea why I have not brought it up to this point. Ballrooms. Private ballrooms. Specifically, of the third floor nature. It is astonishing to
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For all of my years working at the antiques store, I never found the hidden portal in the back of the giant wardrobe or that coveted, inner panel toward the bottom of a steamer trunk. It was not for the want of trying. Some of you will
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I wish I could recapture a bit more from my child’s eye view of the large, Asian house. The memory is a tissue thin scrim of standing by the railed porch with my father and his friends, awaiting entrance to a blurred art opening. The ambiguous
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Between you, me and the postman, I should have rang that doorbell when I had the chance. The shake shingle and stone cottage was a New England Classic. Any beady-eyed lingerer could see, 10805 Poppleton Avenue was the Real Deal Mystery disguised
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Bang on the pots and pans and break out the silly, tin noisemakers. There’s cause for celebration on the Streets of Omaha! In February of 2018 Exchange Bank filed a building permit for 8008 West Dodge Road to the tune of $2,414,120. I assumed
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A few weeks back, four buildings extending the north side of Farnam between 29th and Park Avenue were demolished. Three of the buildings were constructed in the early 1900s, the fourth one purportedly built in 1990. There is no need to squabble,
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Every now and then I drive along Northwest Radial where it curves into Military Avenue to inspect the Benson of my childhood. Just to make sure everything is still in order, I suppose. I find it is all pleasingly up to snuff, starting many doors
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There is a part of town that someday might be the death of me. If not wholly consumed by its beauty, hopefully of pleasant equivalence. On this Mr. Cassette and I agree: the wandering country lanes in and around Westside High School possess us.
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Early in the 1940s, racing “a murky sky between showers, five cars of Omahans, four to a car, went treasure hunting,” under the direction of Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Stocker. The Stocker couple, no doubt, enjoyed hosting themed parties, as was the