By all accounts, Highway 2 in Nebraska is a scenic stretch of road. You follow it through stunning plains and prairies and hills and everything that makes Nebraska as wondrous as it is. The route begins at the state border with South Dakota; from there, it meanders southeast, eventually ending up in Grand Island, from which it "jumps" over to Lincoln, ultimately continuing on to the Iowa border. Along the way, you'll find yourself passing the remains of plenty of places - towns, farmsteads, homes. Interestingly, one of those ghost towns used to be an incredibly booming place, and it's kind of strange to see just how quiet it is there nowadays, especially compared to what once was.

You wouldn't guess by looking at it now, but once upon a time, the town of Antioch, Nebraska, was a happening spot.

It just so happened to find a perfect niche for itself during World War I, when conflict prevented the U.S. from importing a very important ingredient in lots of different household items: potash.

For many, many years, the United States had imported its potash from Germany at eight to ten dollars a ton; scarcity during the war drove the cost up significantly, to up to $150 per ton in many places.

The solution? American potash - sourced right here, in Antioch, Nebraska, of all places. The town's proximity to alkaline water sources proved to be a lucrative one in the potash industry.

With the booming new business in Antioch came plenty of work, and with plenty of work came plenty of families looking to make it out West.

As mining and mining-related industries often do, the Nebraska potash industry blew up quickly and thrived abundantly for a few years. Potash was used in everything from fertilizer to soda to Epsom salts and loads of other things, and business was good.

Soon enough, Antioch, this little town alongside Highway 2 in Nebraska, had a population approaching 5,000 people.

Things went well in Antioch for some years, until the end of the war came. When trade between the United States, Germany, and France resumed, there was suddenly no more need for American potash. Suddenly, there was no need for Antioch.

The factories shut down at an impressively fast pace.

As quickly as it had blown up, it was all gone - over and done with. People left. Eventually, the post office closed. Antioch officially "died" in 1979, when the remains still standing of one of the potash plants was added to the National Register of Historic Places.

It was over, but then - and to this day - ghosts remain. There are still some structures standing in Antioch, though it's exceedingly easy to accidentally drive right on past it while cruising Highway 2. Keep an eye peeled for the remains of the old factories, homes, and more. Stepping onto the grounds feels like stepping back into time; there's something interesting and forlorn about it.

There you'll find a plaque commemorating the short-lived town of Antioch, its epic contributions to the potash industry, and more. Who knew this one weird little spot with barely-recognizable remains of old buildings was once so important?

So, what do you think? Have you ever noticed these intriguing ruins along Highway 2 in Nebraska? Have you ever found the commemorative plaque? Tell us about it in the comments! If you have a special place in Nebraska you'd like to see us feature someday, tell us about it by filling out this form. We love hearing from you, and you never know if you'll see your idea turned into an article!