New Haven Independent

Why should all mysteries be solved? There are works of art whose only identity is place, their creators and purposes lost in the proverbial shuffle. Why not let the puzzle, unanswered, suffice? Airplanes were once manufactured, though briefly, in New Haven. The State Street building with this transcendent flying machine on its facade may have been connected to that failed experiment. But the unreal optimism of the icon is the only thing essential to its history.

And above Hula Hank’s on Crown Street (which should have better mock-Tiki signage), there are looming overseers that we can bring face to face by using the profane ladder provided by the rising levels of a city garage. We are impatient. We consult Colin Caplan (shouldn’t we all own a copy of his Guide to Historic New Haven Connecticut?) This building once belonged to that fraternal society known as the Benevolent and Protective Order of the Elks. That should suffice to dismiss these cultic fantasies just below the roof line. But we know better, reassured by what we know are faithful urban spirits waiting to protect us from the apocalypse

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