48 stars

As demo continues on the bait shop some old 48 star flags were found tucked away in the attic. I guess flying them would be like throwing up the proverbial middle finger to hawaii and alaska. The mice in the attic must have been some patriotic fellows, as they chewed on everything but the flags. I'm still waiting for the stash of cash to be found, though my chances are getting a bit slim.

two days of demolition, 100 years of dirt

about half of the lowered ceiling that was installed some time ago is now removed to reveal the original ceiling joists.

gina surveying the damage while sippin on some coffee, she's pretentious like that

piles of wood and metal, the metal will be recycled and some of the wood will be used to frame in a few walls. Anything with recylable or reusable value is being salvaged.

a pile of paper and cardboard to the left, ready to be recycled and the once framed in hodge podge of closet space and bathroom is opening up


After two days of demolition, thousands of hammer swings, and a plethora of crowbar prys this is what we have. A building that is starting to show its true shape and size. The architect was able to make field measurements yesterday and we should have some drawings ready in a week or so.

fresh on the inside

The current interior ambiance of the bait shop is defined by the pretentious vulgarity of brilliant blue pegboard and a sparse distribution of antiquated furniture and shelving. Styrofoam nightcrawler containers strewn about the floor and signs reading "please do not put hands in the water" on the shelving above the now vacant space where minnow tanks once resided remind you of its recent past as a small bait shop catering to the fisherman who prowl the missouri river. Cheap flourescent light fixtures hang precariously from the fragile ceiling daring you to walk beneath them. The huge windows are all either covered by lush warm faux wood paneling or jerry rigged with a hodge podge of various materials to create a smaller than original opening. The concrete floors are in fairly good condition and the brick walls reveal their past abuse through layers of flaking paint and left over glue from previous alterations. The attic is full of reciepts and promotional materials left over from the glory days of its former existence as a gas station. The world war 2 era newspapers scattered throughout this elevated time capsule are tattered with evidence of hungry mice.

the bait shop exterior

As you can see the exterior of the ye ole baitshop is a bit of a shamble. A building that provides aesthetic pleasures tantamount to day old poop on a worn fractured sidewalk. The sad building that once housed a small tire shop and gas station is now the dead end of a hopeless, once thriving bait shop. A web of fissures covers the brittle stucco surface. The windows and most of the doors sit idle, crippled and inoperable. The concrete surrounding the building is fragile and broken. The tangled and wilted aluminum awnings hang onto the building like a weak and fatigued sailer hangs on to the surviving threads of a 3 day old shipwreck. A gravel pit is all that remains of a large gaping hole in the middle of the lot that once housed gasoline tanks. From the streetview this building appears to be lonely, tired, disheveled and ready for a bit of love from the wishing machine.