Saturday, August 6, 2016

Louisville's Normal School a.k.a. Joe Ley's

Recently we walked around East Market Street, a part of downtown Louisville we hadn't seen before. It's that kind of revitalized area with beautiful old brick buildings and storefronts squished together catering to the coffee-sipping, art-buying crowd. Some locals now call it "Nulu". I'm ashamed that I didn't get many good pictures of the area. It was a little too sunny and too warm to ask Isaac to be patient while I took a lot of photos.


A craft beer brewery, trendy restaurants, a tree snug in its very own crochet afghan, a cafe that sells records. Some regular signs that it's an area we wouldn't mind spending some time wandering through.



There was a lot for us to take in, it being our first time, yet one building across the street stood out big time.

Two giant toy soldiers flanked its whimsical and borderline creepy exterior and it had such an imposing presence over the buildings around it, demanding attention. We stood transfixed, and probably wouldn't have crossed the street if it wasn't for the two people entering its front door. So we followed too.

As it turns out, this is the most magical, impressive antique store ever, where memories are coddled and dreams are born - Joe Ley's Antiques. First built in 1890, this building was Louisville's "Normal School" where teachers learned and refined their educational practices, ensuring a "normal" education for students in schools in the area. You can still see what look like wooden letters spelling out "NORMAL SCHOOL" above the green awning.




 Wandering through its three stories (and we only peeked into the attached warehouse), this place felt more like a museum than an antique store. One room is even dedicated to the owner's private collection, which isn't for sale and is displayed beyond a wooden cage preventing us grimy humans from touching it all.


And the organization of this place is astoundingly detailed. Here's the carousel horse section which leads from the original normal school to the warehouse next door.


Here's the creepy old stuff corner - with coffins and "Rosemary's Baby" style baby carriages. It shares a room with musical instruments and sports memorabilia.

These people have a sense of humor too, even if it might be on the macabre side. There's a mannequin in the casket and others scattered throughout the place. Between the mannequins and wide array of taxidermy animals popping up around every corner, this place will keep you on your toes.
Even the pricing system is incredibly detailed (and confusing). The man at the front door gave us this piece of paper and explained that using the code of letters and numbers we can translate the prices of each item. Some simple arithmetic was involved too, like a price might be D-3. Anyways, second nature to him, he made it sound so intuitive. But since we were in sensory overload at the place with sparkling ceilings and stacks of antiques, it went over our heads.


I am totally smitten with this place. It trumps the Mellwood Antiques place I mentioned before. Its atmosphere, its mystique, its content. It felt like walking into a movie, some other world inhabited by countless peoples' treasures. I think I said "wow" a hundred times. We found this place half an hour before closing time on Saturday, which was probably a blessing because it kept us from getting completely lost in this place for the entire day.

Later on that night, neither of us could sleep and we just lay in bed talking. About this place. It has such a unique and magical feeling about it. That's when we researched the history of the building and what little else we could find out about the establishment. Joe Ley was an orphan, and when he bought the Normal School it was a boarded-up, forgotten building. Now it has been transformed into a lively and one-of-a-kind museum. I can't wait to visit it again.


P.S. It, too, has air-conditioning.

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