Thirty-two hundred souls. The Wikipedia entry takes a peculiar turn:

Buffalo was platted in 1841, and named after Buffalo, New York, the native home of a first settler. A post office called Buffalo has been in operation since 1846.

On October 7, 2013, Mayor Andrew Mead proclaimed October 23 to be "Weird Al" Yankovic day to honor his childhood hero. Weird Al was presented the key to the city in April of that year. Mead resigned later in the same meeting.

When a facade pleads the 5th:

Once it must have had a great script sign, backlit, glowing at night.

The Buckaroo Revival awning is regrettable, but if I had to change one thing, I’d put the balconies back on the second floor. Watch out! That first step’s a doozy!

The angled corner always gives away the original function. Then again, the name block on the cornice might be a subtle clue as well. If only we knew for sure!

This looks painful.

You don’t to give it paint, you want to give it some lotion.

The old building can be heard, faintly, screaming beneath the mask.

Yes, the old building. I’d wager a hundred bucks that’s a facade job.

You start at the top and work down and think it’s almost completely original and untouched . . .

Dang, so close. Post-war stone.

I cannot explain the old cornice, on this building, at this height.

An old version of the Google Street view shows an old building in remarkable disrepair:

Remarkable relic for something downtown, on a prime location.

Gone now, but its spirit still haunts the site.

Standard-issue mid-century gummint block:

What’s that by the flagpole?

“Dedicated to the freedoms and principles of the country,” I think.

That's nice. Hope they meant it.

“Folks ‘round these parts still talk about the explosion at the talcum powder factory”

The temptation to peel it off must strike everyone from time to time:

HAWKINS.

Looks to be original from the building’s early days. Did it slumber under a metal facade for years?

You know what this is, even if the windows don’t give you the usual clue.

The twins were always a sight to see at the family gatherings, one in her faux-Western cowboy gear, the other in her button-down business suit.

Every small town downtown in America.

IOOF! Looks as if they just ordered half a page in the “things to put on the top part of your building” catalogue.

And every small town had one of these: the shiny ground-floor rehab around the middle portion of the century, from 30 - 60 or so.

In the 1896 assessors book there are businessmen named Weatherby and Gleason, but each had other partners. Looks like they got together for this one, though.

Inexplicable OUMB.

Where did those columns come from?

What is the meaning of this?