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: Blackstone District
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When we last gathered in October, we had a delicious time sifting through the early chronology of our obsession, 9402 Pacific. A mysterious presence, 9402 Pacific has, as long as any of us remember, displayed quiet walls—a kind of beautiful,
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There I was pleasantly chiseling away at an uphill investigation when a My Omaha Obsession reader notified the office of a dubious plot afoot on South 50th Street in Dundee. A local, Dave Schinzel, had recently initiated a petition apprising
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To flute or to coupe one’s champagne? These are the contemplations on the Eve of the Eve. I do love these eves of the eve–always with the hope and excitement of an innocent. This year I woefully secured our New Year’s reservations months
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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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There was a time, not long ago when a small staff, including a cook and “a competent girl,” no doubt the nimble upstairs maid, oversaw the day-to-day function of the large Queen Anne at 3618 Farnam Street. I do like to picture that well-run
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One day last week as I was lying outside, alone, luxuriating in the sun and my daydreams, I had a forecast of a Slim Aarons’ style picturesque summer– A la A Place in the Sun. Enveloped in Ethiopian jazz, floating from our sun porch, a
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I do indeed believe that today we shall be able to get right down to business. Without my dropping of Sam Spade-ish hints and lingering confessionals, I believe we will make good time. I will get to it, right away, I promise. But first allow me
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I remember fake falling asleep in the backseat of my family’s car, driving home after special nights in Downtown Omaha. Father of Miss Cassette had a number of favored routes that would return us to our home in Benson but his chosen path