Talk of demolishing the old Market Furniture Building has some residents looking for an alternative to tearing down the historic building in downtown Laurinburg.

The Laurinburg City Council has considered tearing down the building at the corner of Main and Railroad streets as a cheaper option than trying to fix up the structure. The council has yet to take action on the issue.

City resident Mark English told members of city council earlier this week that the Market Furniture Building is worth saving despite the state of decay it is currently in.

"We talk about landmarks and anchor properties in downtown Laurinburg," English said. "There are few that have the qualifications of this building."

English, a former member of the Laurinburg Downtown Revitalization Corporation, read from a text on architecture that discussed the building.

It is the only building described in the book from the downtown area.

"From an architectural historian standpoint, that is the only thing worth looking at here," English said.

He cautioned against haste as the building is not owned by the city and it would bear none of the liability should someone be injured. English added that the building, while in a state of disrepair, is not crumbling into the street and is likely not a direct hazard.

English also expressed doubts that the city could flip the lot after tearing down the Market Furniture Building as he owns lots in downtown that have have been on the market for years without a buyer.

Instead of tearing down the building, he suggested the possibility of beautifying the building by placing artwork from college students in the broken out windows. At the very least, the city should consider boarding up the windows, perhaps with volunteers, English said.

"That has been done in a lot of places, too numerous to mention, but it can be done here."

He scoffed at the $1.6 million price tag given for renovating the three-story building.

"I do think a viable plan for that building might be to finish renovating the downstairs marketable space and leaving the upstairs vacant," English said. "Let the person that buys the building come in and spend the money to renovate that space. We don't need to do a $1.6 million project."

English also express concern about the downtown are losing its designation as a National Registry Historic District.

"We came this close to not getting this district," English said.

The Market Furniture Building was one of a very few actually historic buildings along downtown Main Street, English said.

"All of our buildings have been changed and adulterated anymore that they don't count anymore, they're just there. So there is very possible potential that we could lose the historic district and that means the loss of any future grants that pop up."

English is not the only one concerned about losing a Laurinburg landmark.

Beacham McDougald, a local funeral home owner whose family owned the building for more than 40 years, says he is saddened over the potential loss of the Market Furniture building.

"I hate that it is happening," McDougald said.

He tried to buy it over a decade ago in an unsuccessful bid to repair the aging building.

"Now, it has gone so far, (demolition) may be inevitable without some infusion of money, which is just not there at the moment," McDougald said.

If the city does demolish the Market Furniture Building, McDougald says, "I'll be there to get some bricks out of it as keepsakes."

The building may best be remembered for a tenant whose fame reportedly brought thousands of people to Laurinburg.

"Spaghetti," the mummified body of an Italian carnival worker named Concetto Farmica, spent more 20 years of its posthumous life on the third floor of the Market Furniture Building, then known as the M.A. McDougald Building. The building was both a furniture store and a funeral home, with embalmings being performed on the third floor.

Farmica's body came to mortician John McDougald after the Italian killed in a fight with a fellow carny while their carnival was stopped in McColl, S.C. in 1911, according to published reports. A relative of the man reportedly paid $10 to have Farmica embalmed, agreeing to pay funeral expenses at a later date. John McDougald never saw that man again.

Farmica was moved to the McDougalds' garage when they lost the building to foreclosure during the Great Depression, becoming a local oddity that attracted countless tourists and visitors to Laurinburg.

Farmica was buried Sept. 30, 1972 after an outcry from prominent Italian-Americans.

According to local lore, the name "Spaghetti" was given to the man because people had difficulty pronouncing the man's name.