If you look and compare, you’ll see how very nice the remains of this sign are: there are three full panels on the left side and three empty panels on the right.
This little town is split by the Texas-Oklahoma border. Kids in kindergarten through fourth grade go to school in Texas, and from fifth grade through twelve, go to school in Oklahoma. (As a native Texan, I am not too sure about letting Oklahoma get more years to educate the kids than Texas has. We can all just hope for the best.)
My favorite thing is the lettering on the door; I especially like the lilting curve of the word “ladies” and the intertwined Os in “room.” It’s a little hard to imagine that the owner of this place (a service station when it was new), ordered up something fancy for the door, but maybe that is what happened. After all, it is right around the corner from the town’s museum district.
For the record, St. Paul is the first town on the road trip where we heard loudspeakers broadcasting local radio stations. We thought it was for some kind of special event (was there going to be a parade?) but then we heard the same thing in several other towns.
St. Paul, Nebraska
The street side of this block houses a law office, an antique store or two, and the Museum of Nebraska Major League Baseball (who knew?).
And, while that was interesting, as you know, I like to check out the backs of things. Otherwise, I would have missed the sad state of things in the alley, with that dumpster that left me wondering how the garbage truck got to it, the plastic sheets that’ve been hanging on the wall for so long they looked like tattered draperies, and the G.A., which might have stood for Go Away.
St. Paul, Nebraska
I tried to figure out who St. Libory was. It seemed easy enough: the town and the church were both named for him/her. It turned out to be a bit more of a challenge than I’d anticipated, however, and the closest I could come up with was St. Liborius.
This led me to the information that St. Liborius is invoked against calculi. And that made me think I might have benefitted from St. L. during some of my higher-level math classes in college. But then I figured out that actually referred to gallstones or kidney stones or similar afflictions. And then that made me notice, again, that Jesus’s stone hand has gone missing. Which set me to wondering if “stone hand” could be considered a calculus.
And, as it turns out, all of that nonsense distracted me from the point I intended to make all along, which was that I appreciated that way the headstone and two statutes seemed to be guarding the crucifix.
St. Libory Cemetery
St. Libory, Nebraska
I did a little more window shopping, this time in downtown Garden City, Kansas, where I found these half-clothed gentlemen. Well, actually they are half-clothed half-gentlemen, which if I recall the rules for multiplying fractions, would make them one-quarter gentlemen.
But at any rate, at least their waists will be comfortable.
Garden City, Kansas