In high school I thought it peculiar that Omaha’s Park Avenue, perceivably a street of once high standing, was so far removed from its namesake. I had assumed it aspired to New York City’s Park Avenue. Our Park Avenue ran north-south (still
Tag: Benson
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It was last May that my passion for 56th Street, on the fringe of the Country Club District, developed into an obsession. On special assignment, I had snuck to see if I could uncover the Archie Love summer home, just a side note, really, to
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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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Allow me to read to you from one of my favorites, Daphne Du Maurier’s Gothic novel, Rebecca: “Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again. It seemed to me I stood by the iron gate leading to the drive, and for a while I could not enter, for
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My friend and I liked to ride the Omaha city bus to all sorts of mysterious places when we were young. I know now it was a good education in the different parts of Omaha and a great study in people watching. I’d like to think that our parents
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It is with a heavy heart that I tell our out of town Omaha friends Canfield’s announced today they will close. I do love that store. The old Canfield’s down at 2415 Cuming Street was a fabulous military surplus store and also had a fine
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You know very well by now that this detective agency has a staff of one. And this one likes to wander off. I pretend at times that there is a crabby clerk to whom I am tethered. Mr. Cross, the office clerk. His sole purpose would be to answer
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“Now that is a moon….” Mr. Cassette sighed, as we were lying under our Larch, staring up at the sky just the other night. This is his new thing, lying on the still warm ground and one that I have fully embraced. For the spring
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I had written Rose Lodge on a manila file folder over a year ago, an early target investigation that I had hoped to explore in my first months at this sleuthing business. Eventually the folder was buried like so many of my dead of night