This magnificent building was located at 16th and Curtis Streets in Denver, built in 1881 for a then unheard of $850,000 ($19 million in today’s dollars) by one Horace A.W. Tabor, who made a fortune in silver mines. Look at this interior!
Cherry wood was imported from Japan and mahogany from Honduras, with 1,500 mohair seats facing a 72-ft. stage that was 50-ft. deep, with a giant painted curtain… seen here in glorious black and white.
The inscription on the curtain prophetically states:
“So fleet the works of man, back to the earth again.
Ancient and holy things fade like a dream.”
Here’s another view of the building…
The Tabor was remodeled in 1921 for movies, and operated for nine years as the Colorado Theater, before once again becoming The Tabor. The great acts of Vaudeville played the stage. It was sold in ’49 for a million dollars. By the ’50s, it was facing the threat of demolition as the population departed for the suburbs.
It was torn down in 1964. Its giant curtain, too large to be displayed anywhere, was stored for years and disintegrated, and was later hauled to a dump. Today, the site is this:
…the Denver branch of the Federal Reserve Bank of Kansas City.
The spooky-looking Woodlawn Club on Woodlawn Ave. at 64th St., destroyed by fire in 1919… making way for this magnificent structure…
The outstanding Wedgewood Hotel, built on the same parcel across from the church, as it stood in its Beaux Arts grandeur in 1923. Designed by Lewis E. Russell, whose architectural claim to fame is as one of the designers of the prototype for White Castle hamburger stands. This was his largest-known building, an 11-story “flatiron” masterpiece.
It was demolished sometime in the mid-20th Century. Now it’s a …
parking lot for a dozen cars.
Bonus! Here’s Russell’s White Castle landmark at 43 E. Cermak Road, now a chicken shack.
The delectable dirigible! That’s the wonderful Zep Diner at 515 W. Florence Ave. in South Central Los Angeles as it appeared in 1931 (click pic for larger view) during the airship craze. Note the mooring mast on the left. Today it’s this…
… drive-thru of a McDonald’s. Oh, the humanity.
Here’s a book of matches from the joint. Airships lost their popularity after the Hindenburg disaster of 1937.
And here’s an article about some other wacky eateries in Southern California… in 1934 (click to enlarge).
Bonus! An eyewitness account of the Hindenburg crash from photographer Fred Bamberger. Did you know that the Hindenburg was the length of five city blocks?!
Zep Diner: L.A. Public Library
article: Modern Mechanix, April 1934
matches: laTaco.com
The highly appealing Market Restaurant with its “Famous for Food” sign tower and crawling lobsters, as it stood on the corner of Gervais and Assembly in Columbia, South Carolina. It was originally a lunch counter. It was razed in 1985 for this…
This snazzy joint was once “Winnemucca’s newest and finest,” on the old Route 40 in Winnemucca, Nevada, boasting luxury at economy prices. Plus, superb food and exciting entertainment in the “Crimson Lounge,” which looks like a redecorated Philadelphia basement — and if the inset photo is any indication, we know why it’s a real gone place. Today, it’s…
this. Clearly for winners. See you in Winnemucca! (What rhymes with that?)
Here’s a terrifying, empty suite at the Park Royal Chicago circa 1955, with its outer space floor lamp and flying saucer plant stand. Uneventful drapery hides the myth of the city’s butcher shops manned by armies of Poles.
It’s the cushions that are somewhat frightening, their pastel pop seems to mock the entire tableau of nothingness, ventilated by a noisy wall air conditioner. A great barge of a colorless sofa with its sentinel ceramic lamps, lighting the emptiness.
Can you smell the spilled scotch, Aqua Net and cigarette smoke? That yellow mat must be hiding the blood stains.
Let me know if you figure out what that thing in the corner is.
Here’s the place where it was all happening… The Hurricane, “New York’s Smart Tropical Restaurant,” on the 2nd floor of the Brill Building at 49th & Broadway in the early 1940s. Would you like a menu?
This is the place where Duke Ellington and his orchestra really turned the town upside down. Duke claimed he never made any money during his record 25-week stint at the club, but the live radio broadcasts raised his national appearance fees so high, that it made up for it. This was also the beginning of the end of segregated club audiences. Here’s a view from the orchestra.
And here’s Duke Ellington, surveying his domain.
The club, owned by theatrical attorney Dave Wolper (his nephew became the later TV producer), closed after a lot of financial disputes. The legendary Brill Building is still there.
Amazingly, here’s a recording of a live radio broadcast with Duke from The Hurricane.
Here’s some film of the Duke Ellington Orchestra from 1943.
And here’s where you would have danced…
I’ll see you in my dreams… at the Tahitian Hut Bar.
