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
Tag: Omaha history
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We’ve all wondered about 412 North 96th Street. The imposing fortress of a house on 1.6 flat felled acres stands on the outer rim of Regency. Austere and mysterious, what is possibly most unusual about 412 North 96th Street is that no
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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
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This is the case of the quiet Tudor at 808 South 60th Street, perched on the eastern edge of Elmwood Park. I began trailing her history, spurred by a tip from a friend. The contents of my dossier shared today are an ode to her secret past.
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Contractor-builder, Max Fisher had already built a dozen homes in Omaha by the time he went tiptoeing around a historic, desirable neighborhood in Los Angeles looking for ideas. Through his “exhaustive” spying mission, Fisher
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Deeper and deeper into late summer, the nights on our porch are filled with quiet discussion, the smoke of Mr. Cassette’s new cigar passion, tinkling of ice cubes and the large numbers of cicadas circled together in their droning chorus. This is
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It happened like this. I rushed through the office and asked, “Where did the photograph from 9402 Pacific Street go to?” As I shuffled through a stack of manilla file folders, my coffee stained case notes and recently delivered mail, I pleaded
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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
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Back in October of 2021, I received a note from a young inquirer working his own case. We had a back and forth transmission as I tried to make out what building he was after. What follows are his questions and clues—with minimal fusion
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I found the letter placed on my desk. The envelope had been tidily cut open with a paper knife, its contents, a single sheet, still crisply folded inside. I presumed this was Mr. Cross’s passive way of letting it be known that he’d like to
