It’s a cautionary tale about sacrificing the unfashionable past for the allure of the new. That’s true, but we’re also a bit tired of the tale. And not everyone thinks it was a lovely thing, to be honest. It was a monster of a building, redeemed by a spacious interior whose light court would make for a fine hotel today. But that’s all long gone now.

There were other landmark buildings that also were torn down because they were eyesores or too old or lacked distinction. We revisit some of the bygone ones that were razed but maybe shouldn’t have, and ask: What purpose might they serve today?

When it was finished in 1889, there wasn’t anything like it in Minneapolis. Its Roman motifs, French roofs and Greek columns were heaped together and topped with an underwhelming tower that looked like a pinky finger sticking out of a thick fist. If there was a design contest that included other civic buildings from the same era, the Federal Building would have come in fourth. The occupants were government employees, including the post office, U.S. District Court and other federal offices.

Why we should miss it: For all its faults, it still spoke in the classical language. And downtown today is not abundant with references to Greek and Roman design.

What it would be today: A hotel, probably. Or it might have been gutted and used as a museum. In either case it would have dramatic lighting at night, and while this would make it a nifty part of downtown, it still wouldn’t be a particularly good building.

Built in 1888 by the Minneapolis-based firm of Long & Kees, the Oneida was a seven-story structure that piled one idea on top of the other. A skinny slice of stone, it commanded its corner with confidence for decades, but eventually aged out as more attractive buildings took its B- and C-list tenants — the usual mix of insurance agents, lawyers, bankers. In the end it was not demolished, but humiliated by being reduced to two stories. The stumpy two-story base served as a podium for billboards, until the building was finally put out of its misery.

Why we should miss it: Downtowns need old peculiar buildings with odd histories and evocative tenants like the Yuen Faung Low chow mein restaurant, one of the city’s early Asian eateries.