Situated above West Dodge Road, off the beaten path, there sits 533 North 86th Street, a structure that I am long obsessed with. Throughout the years of discreet observation, I regarded her as the exclusive residence of two affluent Omahans.
Tag: My Omaha Obsession: Searching for the City
-
-
Yes, Omaha, The Writing’s On The Wall all around us. Progress is underway and cannot be impeded. We must enhance and expand! Today we are breaking with tradition and will aim to tackle two little investigations concerning impending demise: 35th
-
Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. This is Miss Cassette, speaking to you from the Field Club Historic Neighborhood. I am told they used to hold magic shows, called Mystery Seances, at 3316 Center Street in the old days. The Field Club
-
In step with the sensationalist reporting of the 1920s tabloids, it was conceivably the Omaha newshawks who gave The River Girl her haunting name. Despite that, it wasn’t all provocative paper selling. Although limited to her death and where her
-
Circo’s Bar at 3231 Harney Street was once the convenient, corner pocket, a kind of warm neighborhood tavern trussed by a steady hard core of regulars. Built in the mid 1920’s, decades before the Circo family took the keys, the sturdy, little,
-
I think you had better sit down for this one. Gather your smelling salts or a good stiff Death in the Afternoon. For myself, I’ve been gorging on Napoleon torte from the Lithuanian Bakery ever since I’ve heard the news. Steady. It is time we
-
Hello friends! It is that time of year again and here in the detective’s office we clink our glasses to another anniversary. My Omaha Obsession is eight years old today. Quite the surprise, as it seems just a few years back that we first met and
-
I went around to the Hotel Castle, registered my alias, paid my day’s rent and was taken up to room 333. I smoked and paced and clicked my nails on the burr side stand. I looked out the Venetian blinds now and again. Two hours passed before the
-
I have always been infatuated with the Black House at 52nd and Dodge and I know I am not the only one. Although I have heard its library was once lined with only the best smelling leather-bound books, the silver kept polished by servants and the
-
I was struck dumb and could only stare at them as they beckoned through the large picture windows, frozen, as it seemed, in a moment in time. The Mystery Mannequins of Midtown I had discovered some time before, further down the street, had
