Twenty-two thousand souls, and the birthplace of Ike. Named after the presenident of the KATY railroad.

Remember? We ended up in Denison TX yesterday with Clippings, and concluded with a look at the old train station.

So we're picking up where we left off. Turning around from the train station and looking down the street . . .

A sad lot that makes you wonder if there was something else here.

Why, yes. Enable Time Machine, set filters on Batman-Villain camera angle:

And surely something was here, too.

Burned. Fell down.

This one's maintained with quiet pride:

1898.

A side street has some nice paintings of the way things used to be, minus the whole expiring-from-a-dental-abscess thing:

The old building got a rehab, which hangs on like an alien facehugger.

 

“Urban amenities like flowers in pots will bring the shoppers back.”

Didn’t work? Let’s try trees.

Of course that’s a post-war rehabbed facade on the left.

OUMB.

 

Was it a theater?

It was. Formerly the Star or State; had a 50 year run that ended in 1962.

Picture of its original facade, here.

 

Doesn’t have to look Roman; you know what it is. It’s the location and the heft.

Yep.

 

Hmmm.

Doesn’t this look like an OUMB?

YES! I’m right! It’s a 1970 Bank of America.

 

I know this was the popular store all the women patronized. But for what?

 

Same here. The modern facade, the eyebrow awning - had to be a chic women’s store.

 

Man, can I read ‘em, or what.

In the early 1950s, they put their name on the store and the old motto was revised: “Exclusive and maybe a bit Expensive.”

In outfits from Ringler’s, women could be confident they would look their best, and the personal service was top-notch. The shop became a gathering place for those seeking the latest fashion news. Regular customers who needed last-minute Christmas gifts could always call on Christmas Eve and be assured the doors of Ringlers would remain open for them to pick up their splendidly wrapped gift. They could also count on help with unexpected events, such as special clothing for funerals.

Ringler’s, like Elinor’s, was about more than clothes, at least Herman Ringler thought so. “Although we sold clothes, what we really sold was a sense of ‘feeling good’ about oneself. I felt we brought glitz and bling to Main Street, to downtown Denison.”

 

Looks like it was, but it wasn’t.

 

It was, and it is:

Wow. Texas! So backwatery, so unsophisticated.

Louis Hoerr and Jerry Strait:

 

A nice non-functional station on the edge of downtown.

You knew they had to have a big hotel, with a mainstream like that.

Under construction and rehabbing, but not for senior housing. Housing, period.

I just liked this view from the Google Car.

There you have it. Sallll-ute, as they used to say from the cornfield.