I have for you today a triad, a group of three, especially of three closely related persons or things. These three are, of course, all doors. After all, this is Thursday Doors. They all have a history. They all have beauty. Yet they are disparate as well. One can be found in in a small town, one in one of the largest cities in the US, one in Midwest farm country. One is unusual, one elegant, one close to my heart. One lives in a Nebraska B&B, producing heat. One shivers in Chicago winters, fronting an historic, new-Gothic building housing a variety of media outlets and several restaurants. One has seen better days, the only building left of a family farm in Nebraska. Let’s take a closer look.
I love the shape of this stove and the little details: the Presidential profile and the handle.
There’s also a triad of doors at this part of the Tribune Towers. I love revolving doors and everything else about this entrance is just right, working together harmoniously. Construction began in 1923 and and its 36 floors were completed two years later in 1925. But this isn’t the first Tribune Tower. The original was built in 1868, but was destroyed in the Great Chicago Fire of 1871.
When my grandparents lived on their farm, this barn was new and part of a variety of farm buildings. My brother and I loved visiting, “helping” my grandfather with chores, plowing, etc., eating my grandmother’s cinnamon rolls, playing with the dog and cats. Now the barn is the only original building left, surrounded by newer building built by the son of a former neighbor. You can’t see the doors that took us into where Grandpa milked the cows by hand, pausing occasionally to shoot milk at the cats. You can still see the doors to the hay mow, where the bales of hay were stacked. As you face the barn, the house was back and to the left. In between was a pump, where we would pump cold, delicious water into our hands. So many memories reside here.
For more doors, head to Norm’s blog and click on his Thursday Doors entry. Other entries can be accessed through the blue linky critter toward the end of his post.