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,
Tag: Mid-Century Modern houses
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Architectural detectives, real estate devotees and those still astir at 3:00 am, let us gather. The focus of our obsession today will be the veiled and inspiring 3217 South 101st Street. A work of art in and of itself, this Contemporary
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I will openly confess, I began to dig for McKinney leads and their Hidden House property with a sort of preconceived inclination. I suppose that was biased of me. My desire was that the newest couple to own 1023 South 96 Street would be Omaha’s
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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
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This particular house fixation of ours, if you like to call it such, becomes a real drawback for an unsuspecting driver. Sometimes I fancy Mr. Cassette my driver but that’s only because he insists on driving us everywhere. He really is an
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Here in the detective office, just as at home, I like to keep up appearances, if for no one but myself. The mishmash of a period-imbued backdrop fans my little dream, nudged along by the likes of Ethel Waters and Scrappy Lambert and his Colonial
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Hello and welcome! Dear Detective Friends, today, March 2, 2020, My Omaha Obsession is celebrating a four-year birthday party online. We have grown so much this year and I want to thank each and every one of you for that. You have really spread
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A little bird had tipped me to the soon-to-be demise of seven homes on Pacific Street extending from 84th to 87th. –that strip of mostly classic ranches on the south side, leading down to the lights at Countryside Village and Westside
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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