Back to Newark for take two. Many interesting things for a town of 50k.

This is not one of them. I don’t know what to call this style.

I’m not sure it actually is a style. It’s just a thing.

If the previous example was Transitional Corporate, this is the style that came after - a shinier, more techno-looking Corporate design.

Early - mid 80s, or perhaps later; the style hung around for a long time.

A few ornamental bricks fall, they take out the rest.

You wonder what it looked like and why it had to go.

It was, presumably, fun to stay here.

OUMB with one hell of an overbearing sign:

It's not great, but I like it. As a historical artifact.

Ah. Gorgeous. A bit overscaled on top, but it probably looked better with the signage.

Federal Eagles in the WPA style.

Wow. Or perhaps, Huh.

This one got hit hard by time, and it takes a little imagination to reconstruct what it must have looked like. Was the central portion all glass? Was the entire facade sheated with red brick?

Also, WHY?

Everyone knows that one couple that’s been together forever even thought they’re both so different.

The Old Home?

That's the side. The front:

Sullivanesque all the way, baby.

Actually, not Sullivanesque, but Sullivan.

“See? A little paint, and we’ve increased the number of buildings downtown by four."

A gorgeous extravagance:

This is #4:

When the third Courthouse was destroyed by fire in 1875, residents had begrudgingly put up with the out-of-date building for several decades, and many were relieved to see it go. Colonel Charles H. Kibler, at the dedication of the fourth Courthouse, described the old building as an “unhygienic nuisance” and publicly declared that he “approved the accidental destruction.” 

The cornerstone was laid a year later. It's quite old, but American standards.

One of those odd shots that caught my eye for a moment.

The town has that frozen-in-time look, and I approve:

You have a sense of time, of time passing, of the weight of the years. Or, you don’t, and you just think it’s a bunch of old buildings and so what.

If it’s the latter, I’m sorry for you. But if that's you, you're probably not reading this page.

Oh, we can’t end here, not with another 70s craptastic gummint building.

We can’t! And so:

Restored by the heirs to the local basket fortune. You know, the people who made this building. Alas:

At its peak in 2000, it had $1 billion in sales, employed more than 8,200 people directly, and had about 45,000 independent distributors (called Home Consultants) selling its products directly to customers.
As of April 2016, there were fewer than 75 full-time and part-time employees; about 30 of those still made baskets.

That’s a hard fall.