Passing along a street, if I recall, this is across from the Aztec Theatre, there was the old Dentist Building. I would travel that way for years, and the bus stop there was a major transit transition point — or so it seemed. There was, at a time, some urban art adorning the location, and it was — architecturally — appealing. Three floors above ground, and a basement level that fronted on the Riverwalk, but all of that is gone.
The name I used, the “Dentist Building,” came from the last placard of an abandoned office on the Commerce Street side. There was a single garage door that opened on the St. Mary side, and hinted at a floor of parking — always left me with images of a Batman/Bat Cave style of abode.
Like its given namesake, the building is gone. Like a rotted tooth? Just ripped up and disappeared. Leaves behind what was, at the time of the picture, an empty socket, maybe a giant tongue, probing the recently vacated space. Too bad as the disappeared building held hints of classically modern and deco in its styling. Probably going to be another high-rise on the Riverwalk, now.
The image itself was nothing special, just a snapshot of downtown in transitional history, and I doubt there will be much blue sky there, once the construction cranes alight.