On any given day, thousands of New Haven signs—successors in a churn that dates back centuries—are meant to stand out.
But a few stand out in part for not yet having been succeeded: parking lot signs pinned so long to their trees that the bark is swallowing them; a sepia-toned sign giving directions to New York as casually as an old-timey “thataway”; a metallic and turmeric placard offering nuclear shelter long after the Cold War; a list of graveyard rules posted at a time when it still made sense to prohibit roller skating; and a cluster of traffic-grade signs declaring civic clubs’ weekly meeting details as if they’d never change, which of course they have.
Signs like these are little windows into history, and the more they’re out of date, the more they’re full of wonder and delight.
Written and photographed by Dan Mims. For photo captions with notes and locations, check out the email edition of this story.
