Almost eleven thousand souls. Wikipedia says "Union City is recognized for the following: It was the site of a minor battle in the American Civil War in March 1864, and it was the site of a Goodyear Tire and Rubber Company/Goodyear Tire plant, which generated a large amount of the city's economy."

Was. Generated. Well, let's see how they're doing now.

It doesn't need the flag to tell you it's a government building.

It's a beautiful building. Sober, restrained, judicious. The statue is Congressman Robert "Fats" Everett.

I'm not saying anyone's in the mood for a hanging, but should it strike, they're set:

A gas station, once upon a time, but there's little of the original design left.

The town still has a Kohler plant; they make shower doors. The loss of the tire plant in 2010 put almost 2000 people out of work. Tyson is the largest employer now.

I hope it's Christmastime; otherwise, seeing these window decorations in February or March is a bad sign. Shaved cornice; evidence of a neighbor that was just as tall.

There's little on the web about this fellow.

By little, I mean nothing.

Ghost sign, shuttered windows, painted wall, faux stone facade: it's like it's trying to cram every Main Street cliche into one building.

It's not any Finance Company. It's an incorporated Finance Company.

I - I can't even begin to wonder what happened.

Although if I was forced to speculate - a set of circumstances I cannot imagine arising - I'd say the original buildings still slumber in the dark behind the latter-day facades. The only question is whether the building on the right was completely redone, or whether you see the spaces where the windows were.

If so, they were huge.

A bank? Of course! But not any bank. It's the Third National Bank. Really:

And it used to be the Old and Third National Bank. I'd like to the site that informed me of that deathless piece of information, but that's about all it says.

The second worst thing about this type of awning, so popular in the 70s and 80s?

Its durability.

You know a lot of time has passed when this type of sign starts to look venerable.

Those extruded-letter rounded-corner modular signs were the worst - they replaced good solid metal and bright neon, and looked hideously cheap.

Visually, it's an inverted pyramid:

But I doubht that was the intention. How bigger people must have felt when those bricked-in areas were filled with glass. Unless this isn't a rehab, and was built to look like this. Hard to say.

Finally:

Opened in 1941, and for some reason it's called the Masquerade Theater today. Hard to get that name to stick when the sign still says Capitol.

But it still stands and it still houses entertainment - so who's complaining? Not me.