Today’s investigation is just a brief wandering into some recent ruminations. I’ve been thinking a lot about the long-razed TraveLodge motel on the northwest corner of 39th and Dodge and was pleasantly surprised when I came across a postcard of
Tag: B. F. Sylvester
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I shall never forget the thrill I had when I first saw a photograph of the darkened Cudahy Mansion. It was a pleasant, summer day and had been invited to an intimate noon gathering. Let us pretend this was a get-together with Miss Cassette’s
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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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You and I are obsessed with the look of a proper estate with tall creepers and twiner-covered wrought iron gates. Even typing this I tremble to think of the extravagance of it all. Just imagining having one’s morning coffee on a patina copper