Nampa Audiotour: Echo's van Erfgoed in de Stad van Vooruitgang

If you look straight ahead, you’ll spot the E. H. Dewey Stores by its one-story height, tan stone and brick facade, and those big modern windows right on the corner of 1st Street and 11th Avenue. Alright, let’s time-travel for a moment! Picture this spot back in 1919: the air is thick with dust from horses and wagons rumbling past, and a brand-new, L-shaped building stands proudly on this corner, built to wrap around the bustling Farmers and Merchants Bank. The mastermind behind it all? Edward H. Dewey-Nampa’s own “man with a plan.” He was a banker, miner, farmer, and even the city’s mayor, but this was his way to make downtown the place to shop, chat, and maybe even gossip a little. There were two shiny stores in each wing, with shopkeepers making deals and kids peering eagerly through storefront windows. As time rolled on, part of the building was chopped away, but this stout section on 1st Street remained-like a stubborn old-timer refusing to budge. Over the years, it became everything from a dry goods shop buzzing with customers to the noisy home of The Idaho Press-Tribune’s printing presses. By 1985, it joined the Nampa Public Library, then eventually found its way back to commercial life. Through a century of change, it’s the brick-and-stone survivor still watching Nampa grow and change, just as Dewey intended-though maybe with fewer horse-drawn carriages these days!

Right in front of you, you’ll spot the Nampa Historic District with its row of sturdy red-brick buildings lining both sides of the street, boasting big, blocky windows and classic storefronts-just look down the street at these proud two-story structures and you’ve found it! Welcome to Nampa’s historic heart and soul! Picture yourself standing here back in the early 1900s, surrounded by the buzz of shops and locals strolling under striped awnings on First Street South. These solid brick blocks, built between 1905 and 1920, weren’t just for show-they were part of Nampa’s big boom, when the city’s main street blossomed with everything from department stores to bakeries. But, hold on to your hat, because on July 3, 1909, disaster struck: at the Arnold Cigar Store, a customer eyed a box of fireworks, lit one up right inside the store-because why not, right?-and suddenly, chaos! For three long hours, fire roared through downtown, swallowing up nearly everything between First and Front Streets and Twelfth and Thirteenth Avenues. Yet from those ashes rose these very buildings you see now-a true comeback story! Thanks to clever architects like Tourtellotte & Hummel, including the famous Nampa Department Store, downtown was born anew, brick by brick. So as you walk the district, give a silent high-five to Nampa’s unstoppable spirit and maybe imagine the street alive again, buzzing with shopkeepers and the occasional, slightly safer fireworks display.

To spot the Nampa Presbyterian Church, look for a grand, stone building on the corner with pointed Gothic arches and tall, detailed windows set into its rugged, towering walls. Here you are in front of a true Nampa landmark-the Nampa Presbyterian Church, standing tall since 1918. Picture the year it was built: the world was changing fast, jazz was just becoming all the rage, and someone here in Idaho decided it was time for a church that looked like it belonged in an old European storybook. Architects Tourtellotte & Hummel drew up those dramatic, sharply pointed gables and arched windows you see, giving the place a look of real ambition-maybe a bit like a castle, if you squint hard enough! Imagine the first congregation squeezing together inside, each pew filled with farmers, merchants, and dreamers, all eager to hear the latest news. The church became a vital anchor for a growing community, built by folks with more imagination than spare cash. Over the decades it’s watched Nampa’s streets shift and fade, but through changes and challenges, this sturdy church hasn’t lost a single bit of its picturesque charm. It’s almost as if it’s always ready to host a secret meeting or the next big small-town celebration-not a bad job for a building over a century old!

Look for a sturdy, one-story brick building at the corner, with tall, skinny windows outlined in bold white and a smooth white base-like a cake with lots of square frosting. Alright, here you are at the Nampa and Meridian Irrigation District Office-built back in 1919, with its unmistakable brick and concrete style, and all those dramatic, castle-like window tops. Imagine a time when Idaho’s farmers were truly thirsty for change-water was gold in these fields! Back at the turn of the 20th century, small towns across Idaho were organizing like secret clubs, forming irrigation districts to get their crops the water they needed. The big adventure really began with the Ridenbaugh Canal-originally just six miles long, but by 1913, this hardworking canal stretched forty miles and watered over 600 local farms. Now picture the clatter of boots in 1919 as the irrigation district moved from a cozy spot above City Hall in Meridian to booming Nampa, ready to make its mark. Their new office, right in front of you, opened in 1920, boldly declaring, “Hey, we mean business!” After all these years, it still stands proud, listed on the National Register of Historic Places, the nerve center for making sure nobody’s cornfield goes thirsty.

You’ll spot the Nampa American Legion Chateau by looking straight ahead for a crisp white, one-story building in an L-shape, with a whimsical turret rising above its entrance and flanked by a tall flagpole waving the American flag. Alright, imagine yourself in 1931, right when this eye-catching chateau shot up, the brainchild of the creative minds at Tourtellotte & Hummel. This isn’t your everyday veterans’ hall-it’s described as “fanciful” and “picturesque” because, why go boring when you can add a turret that looks ready for a medieval festival? As you stand here, picture veterans gathering, their laughter mixing with the scent of strong coffee and the occasional sound of a swing tune leaking out the doors. Local legends say there’s probably been more than a few epic stories swapped within these walls-some heroic, some slightly exaggerated, and a few that never made it home after game night. Being listed in 1982 on the National Register of Historic Places means this spot isn’t just for nostalgia-it’s a living piece of Nampa’s story, honoring community and camaraderie that’s lasted for generations. No secret handshakes required to enjoy the charm, but if you imagine one, I won’t tell!

Here you are in front of what used to be Mercy Hospital, once a proud two-story building with 32 rooms, buzzing with the hopes of Nampa in 1919. Imagine the chilly December air of 1918 as city folks and the Sisters of Mercy broke ground, helped by a donation from the Catholic Church. By November 4, 1919, the hospital opened its doors-a real marvel for a town this size back then. Picture nurses hustling down the halls and a bell ringing for emergencies. Over the decades, the hospital stretched its wings with expansions in 1936, 1957, and 1959, growing to fit 100 beds. Nampa just kept growing, and eventually, in 1967, medical needs spilled over to a shiny, bigger facility on 12th Avenue. Since then, this old building put on many masks-offices, classrooms, even a retirement center-proving you can teach an old hospital new tricks. Sadly, after 2004, it stood empty, and a couple of fires brought dramatic, smoky endings. By 2016, Mercy Hospital came tumbling down, but not before earning a spot on the National Register of Historic Places, a nod to the little hospital that could in the heart of Nampa. Talk about going out with a bang-and a sprinkle of holy water!

To spot the H. Orton Wiley House, look for a solid two-story red brick house with white trim, striped green awnings over the windows and doorway, and a big green sign out front that reads “Wiley Alumni House”-it’s right near the edge of the Northwest Nazarene University campus. Now, picture it’s 1922: the roads are quieter, the smell of fresh-cut grass rolls across campus, and everyone at Northwest Nazarene College, as it was called back then, is abuzz with hope for the future. This very house, still standing strong, was built as a home for H. Orton Wiley, the college’s very first president. You’ve got to imagine Wiley himself: a determined man pacing the halls, determined to shape the school into something extraordinary, probably dodging a few leaky roofs and crossing his fingers for extra funding-hey, some things never change in higher education. The air was thick with the excitement of new beginnings, and little did anyone know, this red-brick retreat would become the sole survivor from those early days. While nearly everything else from that era has vanished, this home still radiates the optimism and grit of its original residents, reminding students and visitors alike that big ideas can sprout from the humblest of buildings… and maybe a stubborn president with a trusty umbrella on rainy days!