From their proposal for establishing a Historic District:

"The streetscapes of Main Avenue on either side of Shoshone were almost completely filled in by 1911, but many lots in the district have remained empty since the townsite was platted in 1904, and thus the edges of the downtown have always had an empty appearance."


"In the 1970s, the city expanded the sidewalks into a curvilinear pattern, planted trees and installed street furniture."

As was their wont.

Well, there’s your startling contrast:



It’s like a leper colony. That poor structure was pummeled by rehabs, but it probably had little distinctive merit to start with. The clock is certainly a piece of work; perhaps it once lived elsewhere, was rescued, and installed to help revitalize downtown.

Along with Trees in Pots.

I hope this is temporary. But you can certainly read what happened: a new tenant put up a sign, and didn’t bother to paint the area that was covered up. Later, I suspect, someone put up another sign, and the deep blue is the unweathered hue.



Rehab or new construction, it bestowed a serious Fifties on the look of main street. The fake stone, the script lettering, the flat overhang - it’s all there.

Nice Frank-Lloyd-Wright-on-the-cheap there:



HERRIOT. Lots of history here:

This structure was designed by Burton Morse and the contractor was W.G. Reed. Although the building proclaims "Herriott," city directories do not list a business of this name at this address. Instead they list the Idaho Automobile and Supply Company, which sold Reo and Overland automobiles and served as the headquarters for the Pocatello-Buhl Truck Line.42 The local radio station, KTFI, was located here from 1932 to 1937, as was a ballroom "Radioland," before moving to the Radio Rondevoo on MainStreet in1940 (site54). During the 1940s it was used as the Rollerdome skating rink.

OMUB, or Obligatory Modern Ugly Bank:



Top-heavy, slit-windows - needs only circular light fixtures and aggregate planters.



The historical proposal says:

This building under went a dramatic reskinning probably in the late 1950s or early 1960s. Bisbee photographs portray a brick building with rustication on the first story. Windows on the second story were one-over-one, double hung sash and were recessed into shallow panels. An entablature emphasized the roofline, and the words "First National Bank" were incised in the frieze at the curved corner. The application of a porcelain enamel veneer on the first level and structural, opaque glass on the second, and the replacement of the original windows with metal sash has caused the structure to lose all semblance of its former self.

Not necessarily a bad thing. You can see the remains of the old sign:

The bulbs might have given off a little heat, perhaps?


One of those old buildings that looks as if it’s wearing a mask -



Or in this case, two conjoined heads wearing masks.

Another marvelous innovation of the 60s / 70s bank: it’s split level!

It’s split level!



SPLIT LEVEL! Like the Brady's house!


Okay, class: what are the white dots for?



Right: they were the glue that held the tile cladding to the old building.

When Google went back, the repair work was done:


If you can call that a repair.


The Banner Furniture store: a confident corner with a 60s slant-window overhaul of the ground floor.



Once again, trees have taken over, hiding the lack of action from people who drive by.

The downtown motel:



Filthy, horrible rooms that smell. Had dirty sheets and blankets. When I got there management gave me the wrong key so when I showed up later I had to call then wait forever for them to show. Smells like dirty toilet bowls and homeless people. I do not recommend to anyone! Unless you are desperate for somewhere to stay but the local truck stop restroom is probably cleaner!

That's about 55% of all non-chain motel reviews these days.

A small-town staple: the classical temple done mostly in brick, with a slightly fussy pediment devoid of sculpture.



It's like a Carnegie Library that was cut in two so they could stick another story in the middle.


From the city's website, notes on the Baugh building:

"The eponymous building was constructed for a Shoshone, Idaho physician who owned the property for a number of years prior to construction."

"It has housed drugstores for most of its existence: Schramm-Johnson Drugs from 1923 to 1937, Walgreen Drug from 1939 to 1953, and City Drug from 1954 until the mid-1980s."

Looks as if it always wanted to be a bank.

1931. Not a lot of money sloshing around for new construction, it seems.


Lucky for them the new styles were stripped down.

Finally: the sad gas station with Buckaroo Revival overhang.

Perhaps it's just because of my family business, but nothing gets me in the ol' regrets like the sight of an abandoned gas station. Someone failed, and it couldn't have been a good patch in his life.