Should Old Acquaintance Be Forgot

Hi everybody, amd Merry Christmas! We're not allowed to say that up here in New York City, where there is a War On Christmas! Just kidding! It's been far too long since I last posted, so here is a long-planned update on your favorite ABR sites, a la at the end of movies when it's like, 

and,

The following post sat idling in draft form probably a year ago or more, as I added a note here and a photo there. I never got to take all the hoped-for photos before moving, but here we are. If anyone wants to supply missing shots and/or more information, I'll be happy to credit you.

But don't think of it as an epilogue for a dead blog; only one that is mostly dead. Consider this also a call for suggestions: I need more curious abandoned sites to feature on ABR. I'll be back in town briefly in April and would love to shoot photos for future posts.

Steve & Barry's University Sportswear at Cortana Mall

 

A subspecies of the urban explorer set are people into dead malls. Coming from the land of malls myself, New Jersey, I've got dead mall exploration in my blood and would love to get a chance to get inside one. So imagine my interest on spying one wedge of Cortana looking abandoned.

Cortana Mall, er, uh, "The Mall at Cortana" a name adjustment which rings false even to a newcomer like me who hasn't been inside the mall, isn't yet a dead mall, but like a lot of suburban shopping complexes these days, it's not doing great. I think I read somewhere that it's at about 70% occupancy, and no one really expects that number to rise. 

This is just a brief post concerning the former Steve & Barry's University Sportswear.

Downtown Hodgepodge

I spent a late afternoon wandering around downtown last week because I decided to go through with my proposed idea, Main Street, Exiled: Disappearing Downtowns, on a new blog Disappearing Downtowns. I will only be here in Louisiana about one more year, so this new blog is a way to keep up the ABR-style photography wherever I roam.

Endless Buffet of Leftovers

And now, a bunch of sites I've been meaning to post from two recent excursions, but they were trumped by the showing and telling of the time I saw coffins and the time I could have ended up in a coffin.

First, yet another car repair joint, this one on Florida and more colorful than most. Note the sinkhole in the repair floor, below. 

 

Broadmoor Theatre, Merchants Landing flea market, and more

The Broadmoor movie theatre is one of those places that's supposedly not permanently closed. It's still up for lease, or as the roadside sign reads, FOR L A

 

Three Sisters ladies' shoppe

I'm told by fellow urban explorer Josh that Three Sisters used to be a ladies' department store. I was intrigued, but when I looked up the phrases "Three Sisters," "department store," and "Baton Rouge," on Google, all that came up was obituaries. Apparently a popular job for Southern ladies who died recently was working in department stores. Also, a lot of them had three sisters.

Purpera Building, Romano's Pack & Save, Mason lodge, and more

I had usage of a car today, so I was able to expand my territory, but sadly I was forced back to the Old Blue Eye camera. No matter, because I shall make it up to you with a cavalcade of sites...and my first confrontation.

This is the Purpera Building, as proudly announced on the crown of the building. You'd think there'd be some mention of it somewhere on the world wide Interwebs, right?

LoBianco's Gro. & Beer, Unknown car joint, Winn Dixie

Last Friday was an epic photo-gathering expedition for me. I was out nearly three hours in the midday sun, covering five abandoned sites, also stopping for excellent Lebanese food at Arzi's and narrowly avoiding heat stroke. Problem is, this is a photo blog and my g-damn digital camera won't stop washing everything in blue. So I've decided to post the remaining three sites I shot that day all in one post, before switching over to use my bf's fancier camera. After this post, say goodbye to the blues!

Here we have LoBianco's Gro. & Beer at Government Street and Steele, in the classic Old South style that I have actually never seen outside of movies and TV.

Could this sun-faded promotional Stroh's poster be sadder right now? Not really.