I wasn’t planning on stopping in Mannsville. You know how it goes — a backroad drive, a cup of gas station coffee, and a camera riding shotgun like a loyal sidekick, always ready for whatever catches my eye. But there it was… a forgotten beauty standing stubbornly at the corner of Hwy 177 and Broadway, whispering stories to anyone willing to listen.

I pulled over. Had to. This red-brick building looked like it had muscles once — maybe a garage? A local service station? You can still feel the hum of an old pickup pulling in. There’s almost no sign left but super faded couple of letters GAR? GARage? And the kind of brickwork that tells you someone cared about how it looked when it was new.

📍102 E Broadway, Mannsville, OK
Once part of the Chickasaw Nation territory, Mannsville was officially founded in 1898 and named after Wallace Mann, the first postmaster. The town boomed for a while — a couple of stores, a paper The Mannsville Herald, and even a school rebuilt by the WPA after a 1935 tornado tore through.

This building… it might’ve been from those early days. Maybe someone’s business. Maybe someone’s dream.

I tried tracking down the story behind it — checked some public records, chatted with some locals (who were either as curious as me or just wondering what this wandering woman with a camera was up to), but no luck. The details are buried. Maybe gone.

And that’s the heartbreak.
Our history isn’t just in museums and textbooks — it’s in these small-town buildings with leaning doorframes and sun-bleached walls. They're the kind of places that make you feel like a time traveler just by standing in front of them.

So, I snapped a few photos. A tribute, maybe. To what was, and what still could be if someone, someday, decides to remember.

💬 Have you been through Mannsville? Do you know the story behind this building? If you do, please reach out. I’d love to honor it properly.

Until then —
Keep wandering, keep wondering and vagabonding.