THE FINAL REMNANTS OF THE “WILE E. COYOTE” BILLBOARD AD ARE REMOVED ON DECEMBER 9. PHOTO BY SEAN COLLIER.

There is a billboard that gazes down on the Liberty Bridge.

There are several, in fact. But one is visible for almost the entirety of the bridge’s northbound span; it sits atop an unassuming building on Second Avenue, nestled beneath the Bluff and beside the jail. Most of the time, a normal advertisement leers out from this piece of outdoor advertising; a personal-injury lawyer here, a health plan there.

But every once in a while, something remarkable happens to this hulking placard. An advertising deal runs out and a facade comes down, revealing a faded image of the original billboard beneath: an advertisement for the Donnelley Directory phone book, with Wile E. Coyote poring over the pages in search of the latest and greatest ACME products.

It’s a small miracle when this ghost of marketing past peeks its canine head from behind some modern pitch. A reminder of the past — not just that we used to need a 12-pound book to figure out how to order a pizza, but of a time when services were sold to us via a clever connection to a classic cartoon character.

Sure, the billboard is probably only a few decades old — yet, in 2024, it’s quaint. If you found an old poster with a similar image, you might frame it and put it up in your den. There is a hint of a simpler time in this obscure ad; commercial though it may be, it’s refreshing.

And this poor coyote — already subject to all manner of indignity via his daily pursuit of a certain sassy bird — is not long for this world.

For a time, the owners of the billboard saw fit to put a black screen over the remnants of the Wile E. Coyote ad. While that decision is decidedly no fun, I suppose I can understand it from a certain perspective; if you were trying to lure tenants to a building, you could make the argument that they’re not attracted by the perceived implications of a flaking Looney Tune on the roof.

But now, tragedy: The sign is being dismantled. About half of it was already removed when I last drove by; never again will this particular coyote remind us how best to locate a carpet-cleaning service in the 1990s.

Again, logically, this makes sense: Why bother covering and uncovering a faded sign? But, in my heart, I’m in mourning.

This wasn’t just a whimsical detail; it was one of those bizarre connections to the past that keeps Pittsburgh idiosyncratic. Down in Texas’ most interesting city, they have a saying: Keep Austin Weird. Well, we could do a lot worse than to Keep Pittsburgh Lost in Time. One of the charms of the city is the way that the industrial past mingles with the present, visible in everything from century-old architectural details to bizarre relics of the recent past no one has bothered to update.

Look no further than one particular Mount Washington vending machine. For those who are not in the know: At a Mount Washington fire station, there’s a Pepsi machine that hasn’t been updated since 1999 … when it received a makeover in honor of “The Phantom Menace,” the first of the Star Wars” prequels. For 25 years now, a young Anakin Skywalker has gazed out from that machine. As a result, Star Wars fans make pilgrimages to pop, taking selfies next to this untouched bit of memorabilia; Pepsi even repaired and replenished the machine two years ago on the unofficial Star Wars holiday, May the 4th.

There was likely no saving the Wile E. Coyote billboard; it was too big, too faded, too hard to maintain. But its passing is a reminder that the cultural ephemera of today makes up the interesting archaeology of tomorrow. We should embrace such curiosities when and where we can.

And if anyone around here has a sense of humor, someone will drop a cut-out speech bubble reading “Yipes!” when the coyote finally falls.