Bones, Butterflies, Bison, Bunnies, and Beavers

I have visited Big Bone Lick State Historic Site a couple of times in the past, but that was many years ago. Since then, I’ve passed it several times, without stopping, on the way to Rabbit Hash. A friend visited both last week, and their description of that visit made me promise myself that I would return. A sunny Thursday almost immediately provided a perfect opportunity.

My first stop at the park was the Visitor Center. In addition to having a gift shop, helpful attendants, and a supply of information and maps, the center houses a small but very interesting museum. A panel just inside the door offers a pretty good overview of the park. That big guy in the foreground of the third photo is a Harlan’s Ground Sloth.

At the rear of the Visitor Center is a life-sized diorama depicting how earlier visitors to the salt springs might become trapped in the bogs and involuntarily leave their bones for future scientists. Big Bone Lick is on the Lewis and Clark National Historic Trail, not because the Corps of Discovery stopped here but because both of its captains did. At the urging of President Jefferson, Meriwether Lewis visited the site in 1803 on his way west to join William Clark. The boat carrying the specimens he collected sank on its way to Jefferson. In 1807, after that famous expedition to the Pacific Ocean, Clark made a stop here to collect and ship specimens that did reach the President.

Although they have absolutely nothing to do with vertebrate paleontology, I found the smallish examples of wildlife flitting about in front of the Visitor Center a lot of fun to watch.

A paved path that begins a short distance from the Visitor Center leads to an elevated bison viewing stand. But no bison presented themselves to be viewed there today. Instead, the small herd was lounging in the grass, just out of sight, a short distance away.

Having noted that I’ve passed Big Bone Lick a number of times while driving to Rabbit Hash, continuing on to the one-of-a-kind river town after my stop was rather natural. Besides, if I hadn’t, I could not have put “bunnies” in the title. I grabbed an ice-cold ginger ale at the general store, then sipped it as I watched the Ohio River flow by.

This intersection, just east of US 42 about two and a half miles east of Big Bone Lick, marks the community of Beaverlick. I believe there used to be limit signs here, but I found none today. If I didn’t imagine them, I’m guessing they are hanging on a college dorm wall somewhere. Until a year or so ago, there was a Beaverlick Trading Post at US 42, but it is now an ice cream stand, and almost all of the signage has been changed. They’ve not yet taken care of a couple of side doors, however. Places like Big Bone Lick and Beaver Lick (now Beaverlick) were salt licks where various animals came to get a little salt in their diet. They were named for the lickers, not the lickees.

To complete what has turned into a survey of the area’s smile-inducing place names, I stopped at an establishment that appears to be the last remaining enterprise acknowledging that the community of Sugartit once existed. It’s just a few miles north of those spots made famous by salt-licking beavers and big boned animals.

Where the Airstream Wheels Start

One reason the Airstream Heritage Center has been on my “someday” list for such a long time is that, while I find travel trailers interesting, they are not something I aspire to, and therefore don’t think about a whole lot. Another is that it’s close enough to my home that I knew it would be a simple day trip when the time came. Early in the week. I briefly followed a long flatbed trailer with three small new Airstreams strapped to it, and that reminded me of just how close to me their point of manufacture is. That reminder, along with an idle Thursday, led to a leisurely drive north. A popular Airstream slogan is “Home Is Where Wheels Stop”. Those Airstream wheels are mounted and start turning in Jackson Center, Ohio.

The Heritage Center is attached to the front of the 750,000-square-foot trailer manufacturing plant. The admissions desk is just out of frame on the right. On the left is a new trailer and a display of Airstream-branded gear. The gift shop, where my museum tour will eventually lead, is on the right. The museum entrance is straight ahead. The online reservations for the factory tour would not let me select a date prior to June 10, so I assumed the tours were full or otherwise not available. Not so, said the girls at the museum desk, and they signed me right up.

First up in the museum is a timeline that begins with the birth of Airstream founder Wally Byam in 1896 and ends with the building of this facility in 2018. Displayed at the timeline’s very beginning is the canteen that Wally’s grandfather, Loren, carried in the Civil War. It is claimed that this whole Airstream thing came to be because Wally really liked to camp, and his wife, Stella, did not like sleeping on the ground.

This is the very first Airstream Clipper ever built. It was hand-delivered by Wally Byam to the President of Mexico in 1936. At some point, it became the property of a traveling circus. It was eventually discovered near Mexico City and, once identified, restored. The placard contains some photos and an abbreviated history.

In the late 1930s, Airstream produced some wooden trailers that resembled large teardrop trailers more closely than the familiar rounded-end models typically associated with the name. The sign explains that this 1938 Airlite “…had an aluminum skin applied over the original Masonite exterior which helped to preserve it”. Airstream halted production during WWII but got the wheels rolling again in May 1947 with the Airstream Liner, which was basically a much improved Clipper. That’s a 1949 Liner pictured. The third photo is of a 1949 double-door Whirlwind model.

Here’s a trio of particularly well-traveled examples. In fact, Oscar and Etta Payne’s 1957 Bubble could be the most travelled Airstream of them all. With a legitimate claim of having gone “Around the World in 859 Days”, it is one of four Airstreams from the 1960 European Caravan to tour Russia in the Soviet Union. Virgil and Grace Golden ordered their 1963 Tradewind specifically for the 1963-64 Around the World Caravan, but it made many more journeys than that. The white 1955 Cruiser was used by Wally and Stella Byam on the 1956 European Caravan. It was painted white to match the Byams’ white Cadillac tow vehicle.

I had driven to Jackson Center thinking I would have no factory tour, and I would have been quite happy with that. Of course, learning that I could tour the factory made me even happier. The picture at right was taken just outside the museum. Corporate offices are upstairs. Trailer manufacturing is through those doors straight ahead. No photos are allowed.

There are approximately 500 employees in this building and about 1200 in all Airstream facilities in Jackson Center. The city’s population is roughly 1450. Our guide, Dan, did an outstanding job of describing every phase of the operation, and the tour does an outstanding job of selling the product. Airstream has a reputation for high quality. That top-tier quality, along with worker safety and satisfaction, is a primary goal is evident throughout the factory. It looked to me like the premium prices these trailers command are justified.

Factory tours are free, and the museum is cheap — $5 or less. Currently, the company’s website (https://www.airstream.com/) appears to be experiencing some issues, including those that prevented me from reserving a tour in advance. Hopefully those are resolved soon. At present, website issues do not interfere with access to a factory tour video that is almost as good as the real thing.

Sign Museum Threefer

I visited the American Sign Museum on Thursday. Technically, I visited it twice, once during normal hours and once in the evening for a special Tod Talk. The Tod Talk, “Acquiring and Restoring the Frisch’s Mainliner Sign”, was the reason I was there on this particular day, but I also wanted to see the freshly installed genie pictured at right and the museum’s first-ever special display. Ergo, a threefer.

The museum has owned a pair of the giant Carpeteria Genies since 2003, but one was held in off-site storage until last week. Wonderfully restored, it now stands beside the entrance to the museum’s parking lot. I failed to get a picture of the genie at the front door (which is admittedly looking a little faded these days), so I have included one from the museum’s 2012 grand opening at this location.

When the museum expanded last year (New Stuff to Look At), it was said that there was now enough space to potentially accommodate some temporary exhibits. The first such exhibit, Glow & Behold: Cincinnati’s Historic LGBTQ+ Bar Signs, is in place now. One panel supplies an introduction. Another notes that “…there were more drag queens and kings, known then as female and male impersonators, working on Vine Street in Cincinnati in the 1880s and 1890s than there are today.”

The exhibit includes photos of several businesses that no longer exist, along with retired signs (Remember where we are.) from both defunct and very active establishments. Saturday night’s “Signs & Spouses: A Sparkling Celebration of Marriage Equality” was inspired by this exhibit.

As closing time approached, I took advantage of the relatively empty museum to grab pictures of the Frisch’s Mainliner sign and its flying machine in pieces on the ground without humans milling about. I will be learning a lot more about this sign in a couple of hours.

Between the time that the Tod Talk was announced and when it actually happened, the sign was moved from the storage site to inside the museum, and so was the talk. The email announcing the move let us know that this would allow a cash bar, etc. To my surprise, “etc.” included a genuine Frisch’s hamburger from the still-operating independently owned franchise restaurant in Bellevue, KY. I had eaten during my time away from the museum, but I hadn’t eaten THAT much, and I didn’t want to appear unappreciative, so…

The talk began with Erin Holland, the museum’s Director of Education and Engagement, delivering a greatly abbreviated version of her March presentation on the overall history of Frish’s and its advertising. Then Tod Swormstedt, the museum’s founder and the Tod of Tod Talks, stepped in to share stories about acquiring and taking possession of the Mainliner sign.

The instant that hints of the Mainliner closing began to circulate, the fate of its incredible sign became a topic of concern for many locals and the ASM in particular. As restaurants closed and lawsuits opened, it wasn’t easy to learn just who owned what. It took some creative sleuthing by Erin to contact the owners of the sign. That resulted in a mid-December meeting with three men identified at the time only by their first names. Although they tried to imply that there were others interested in the sign, it was pretty obvious to Tod that not many would actually want a sign of that size, fewer still would have the means to remove it, and no one else could possibly accomplish that by the suggested end-of-year deadline. Even so, there was no additional contact until Christmas Eve, when the museum was told it could have the sign, and yes, that end-of-year deadline was real and very firm. In anticipation of that happening, Tod had sown some seeds in the ASM phenomenal community of helpers. Although the timing could hardly have been worse, the sign was taken down and transported to a museum storage area in a single day.

Every day is a big day at the ASM, but some are bigger than others. The museum is closed on Mondays and Tuesdays, so various projects are often scheduled for those days. Monday, May 19, saw two really big projects completed. The huge genie in the opening photo was erected in front of the museum, and the Frish’s Mainliner sign was moved inside it. Natalie Grilli, photographer for the upcoming book on the museum’s first twenty-five years, was onsite and busy bouncing between the two giants in motion. Natalie was also onsite Thursday evening. Pictures and some of the videos of the moves we saw on Thursday can be seen on the ASM’s Facebook page.

The group then moved out to where the Mainliner sign now stands, and I silently congratulated myself for taking those unblocked photos earlier. Tod now pointed out some of the sign’s features and described some of the plans for its restoration. Those plans are far from complete, but he said restoring the rotating propellers is definitely part of them. A printout of that photo displayed next to the sign was waiting on each chair, and I’ve included a scan of mine here. Note that the original chase lighting was incandescent and ran through the airplane. At some point, this was removed from the plane and converted to neon tubes on the sign body. The plugged holes can be seen in the picture of the airplane interior above. This is also something that Tod hopes to restore. The separate section with the Big Boy has been lost and will likely not be restored.

Something that may be obvious but still should be pointed out and cheered is that the restoration of this sign will take place in the middle of the museum in full sight of visitors. This will certainly present some challenges for those doing the restoration, but it is sure exciting for us mere spectators. Also in the realm of spectating, the sign can be seen at its original home during my own final visit to the Mainliner. A link to pre-order that 25th anniversary book I mentioned is on the museum’s support page

Barbie and Julia

In my report on the Cincinnati Museum Center’s 1950s Day, I mentioned that the event was timed to tie in with the museum’s ongoing exhibits on Barbie and Julia Child. I also explained that I intended to see both exhibits but would do so on a day less crowded than 1950s Day. It happened on Thursday. In hindsight, those tie-ins seem a bit of a stretch since the first Barbie, pictured at right, appeared at the very end of the 1950s in 1959, and Julia Child’s first TV show aired in 1963.

Barbie was conceived by Mattel co-founder Ruth Handler to address the disparity she saw in the toys available to her son and daughter. The son had dolls that let him imagine himself as a cowboy, soldier, fireman, and so much more. The daughter had dolls that let her pretend to be a mother. The daughter’s name was Barbara.

Clothes and other accessories have always been an important part of the world of Barbie. There were twenty-two different ensembles available for that very first Barbie, and their display provides an opening for telling about my only personal Barbie experience. My sister would have been nine when Barbie first appeared, so she might have had a Barbie. I just don’t recall. My daughter definitely had some in the 1980s. The pictured “Cruise Stripe Dress” was only made in 1959-62, but the red high heels it was packaged with, or at least a close facsimile, continue to be made today. I understand that there are worse sources of pain, but stepping barefoot on an upturned tiny red stiletto in the darkness does create a memory lasting forty years and beyond.

Gender diversity began to be addressed rather quickly. Racial diversity stayed absent a little longer. Ken (Yes, Ruth’s son was named Kenneth.) appeared in 1961. Barbie’s Black friend Christie came along in 1968.

Barbie has had a lot of vehicles, especially sports cars and campers, during her 60+ years of existence. I was surprised to learn (from the internet, not the exhibit) that her first car was a 1962 Austin-Healey 3000. A pink Corvette is the first car I think of when I think of Barbie, and I believe that is true for many people. This mockup of a 1985 model was one of several photo ops scattered throughout. I saw probably thirty to forty people inside the exhibit while I worked my way through it. Three were males, two guys with their partners, and I. The rest were females in groups of two or three. Many took advantage of this Corvette to grab pictures of each other.

The idea that girls could be anything they wanted to be was an important part of Ruth Handler’s vision for Barbie. Numerous displays showing some of the careers available to Barbie and her playmates during various periods are spread around the exhibit.

1968’s Christie was a powerful “some of my best friends are Black” statement. In 1980, that statement moved onto “and I am too” with the introduction of Hispanic and Black dolls carrying the name Barbie. Today, Barbie can proudly be called the world’s “most diverse doll line”.

The 1959 Barbie in the opening picture retailed for $3. That’s about $33 in 2025. Some estimates place its current value at more than $27,000. The standard “exit through the gift shop” takes you past this rack of Barbies priced at $11.99. Not too bad, I think, for an icon.

The entrance to the Julia Child exhibit is right next to the entrance to the Barbie exhibit. Barbie is a ticketed event; Julia is included with museum admission. Although I did not know much about Barbie, I knew even less about Julia. I have seen her on TV while channel surfing, but don’t believe I have ever watched a full program or interview.

I was even more out of place here than I had been in the Barbie exhibit. Not only did I know very little about Julia Child, I knew less about French cooking and the tools of the trade. Others in attendance knew of various events in Child’s life and specific items in the collection of cooking gear she called “Batterie de Cuisine”.

Apparently, Child had achieved some level of fame before that 1963 television show. This photo of her and her husband, Paul, was used as a Valentine’s Day Card in 1956. I believe this was the only spot in the exhibit set up especially for a photo op. It did not seem as popular as Barbie’s Corvette, but some of the same groups of women who posed in the car also took each other’s pictures in the tub with Julia and Paul in the background.

As with many traveling exhibits at the CMC, a local connection is part of this one. Cincinnati has been home to some well-known French restaurants. I never made it to Pigall’s, but I did have one meal each at the Gourmet Room and the Maisonette. Two out of three ain’t bad.

Barbie: A Cultural Icon is here through September 1. The last day for Julia Child: A Recipe for Life is today, May 18. 

Mystery & Benevolence On Display

When the Mystery & Benevolence exhibition opened at the Taft Museum of Art in February, I tucked it away as something I would like to attend someday. But other things came along, and it eventually became untucked. A post on a blog I follow reminded me of it just in the nick of time. The exhibition closes today, May 11. I saw it on Wednesday.

The exhibition is subtitled “Masonic and Odd Fellows Folk Art”, and most of the items displayed are from either the Freemasons or the Independent Order of Odd Fellows, although there is a smattering of items from some lesser-known groups. The columns in the opening photo are from a Masonic temple and represent those at the entrance to Solomon’s Temple in Jerusalem.  The letters ‘B’ and ‘J’ identify them as the pillars of Boaz and Jachin.

This is a traveling exhibition put together by New York’s American Folk Art Museum, but there are several local touches. One relates to this 1870 “Washington as a Freemason” poster printed by Cincinnati’s Strobridge Lithographing Company, as described by a “local story” placard.

Focusing on the “art” aspect of the exhibit, here are a couple of impressive marquetry works. The plaque contains numerous Masonic symbols, while Independent Order of Odd Fellows symbols fill the folding table. Additional IOOF items are displayed beyond the table.

The Odd Fellow’s “BURY THE DEAD” sign fits in with the “Benevolence” of the exhibit’s title. In the days before life insurance was common, help with burial expenses was a valued benefit of membership for many organizations. Goats appear in the rituals and symbols of several fraternal organizations. The rideable one pictured here belonged to the Modern Woodmen of America. Another item from something other than the Freemasons or Odd Fellows is this 1902 hooked rug. It is labeled as belonging to the Daughters of Pocahontas, although I believe it should be the Degree of Pocahontas, the Women’s Auxiliary of the Improved Order of Red Men.

I knew next to nothing about the internals of fraternal organizations when I entered the exhibition, and not much more when I exited. That’s not because the organizers didn’t try. It is because those internals are usually cryptic and often illogical, and I don’t believe either is by accident. My quite possibly incorrect understanding is that there are three degrees of “regular” Freemasons, but there are systems of degrees (called rites) that extend well beyond that. The Scottish Rite is one of the better-known of these, and the double-headed eagle is one of its better-known symbols. The “local story” displayed by the eagle is about Taft Museum of Art co-founder Charles Phelps Taft, who was a 33rd Degree Scottish Rite member.

The panel in the foreground contains International Order of Oddfellows symbols. The skeleton hanging on the wall is from the Knights Templar division of Freemasons. I was struck by the frequency with which skulls and skeletons show up here. There is a hint at an explanation in references to the Latin phrase “memento mori”. The English translation is “remember you will die”, and it is used as a reminder to do something good before you go. That’s pretty benevolent. The rest is still a mystery.

1950s Flashback

The Cincinnati Museum Center has presented a 1940s Day or Weekend annually since 2011. I attended the third in 2013. Saturday was their first-ever 1950s Day. Asked on their Facebook page if this would also be an annual event, the museum said no. It is intended to be a one-time thing to mate up with the ongoing Julia Child and Barbie exhibits. “But,” they added, “it could come back!” I don’t really remember the 1940s, but I do remember the 1950s, and the rain on Saturday looked just like rain did when Ike was in the White House and Waite Hoyt was on the radio.

Individual information tables lined the rotunda. Pictured are King Records Legacy, Casablanca Vintage Clothing, and the American Sign Museum with a genuine 1950 NEON SIGN.

I stepped into the Newsreel Theater intending to watch a few minutes of the Moving Images presentation and ended up staying more than an hour watching clips of “Melody Showcase”, “Midwestern Hayride”, and commercials. I don’t remember “Melody Showcase”, but “Midwestern Hayride” was a staple at our house, and it’s even possible that I saw some of what I saw today when it was broadcast live.

1950s Day included quite a bit of live music. I caught the P&G Big Band, the Queen City Sisters, and Naomi Carman and the Bluecreek Boys. I do intend to check out the Barbie and Julia Child exhibits sometime, but the museum was far too crowded for that on Saturday. I’ll slip them in on a weekday when school’s in session and employed people are doing employee things.  

Cincy’s Fire Fighting Heritage

I once ate dinner here. It was sometime in the 1980s. The company I worked for held a banquet for a sales conference here, and we were all allowed to tour the museum before the meal. I recall that I found the Cincinnati Fire Museum quite interesting at the time, but for some reason gave those memories the better part of four decades to fade. During Saturday’s visit, I did find a few pieces of equipment to be somewhat familiar, but I don’t really remember anything about the layout of the museum and have a hunch it has changed more than a little since I was here.

Steps — or for adventurous youngsters, a pole — lead to a lower level where the oldest items in the museum are on display. The city’s first fire engine has been lost to history, but its second survives. It is a pumper built by William C. Hunnerman of Boston in 1816. With a crew of twelve, it could throw water up to 133 feet. The massive drum was Cincinnati’s fire alarm from 1808 to 1824. After the city became too big for the drum to be heard by all, a bell took over, and the drum fell on hard times, which included a period of being used as an oat bin before someone recognized its importance and started to take better care of it. Bored-out logs like the one here were once common components in city water systems. When firemen reached the scene of a fire, they might drill a hole in the nearest pipe to access the water, then plug and mark it for possible reuse in the future. The name “fire plug” has outlived wooden pipes and hand drills by a bunch.

Before the middle of the nineteenth, things called fire engines were merely pumps that were usually mounted, almost always accompanied by some sort of tank, on wheels. Manpower pulled the engines to fires, and manpower operated the pump once they arrived. In 1853, Shawk and Latta, a Cincinnati company, developed the first practical steam pump for fighting fires. Cincinnati soon gained a reputation as a supplier of firefighting equipment. The horse-drawn fire engine (rear view here) was built in 1884 by the Ahrens (later Ahrens-Fox) Fire Engine Company, who had obtained the Latta patents in 1868.

At almost exactly the same time that steam power was dramatically changing firefighting equipment, an equally dramatic change was occurring with the firefighters. Boston began paying some of its firefighters in 1679. Cincinnati went further in 1853 and is considered to have established the nation’s first fully paid fire department. In 1873, Cincinnati firefighters were forbidden from holding other jobs, making them truly professional.

Closing things out is a pair of twentieth-century Ahrens-Fox fire engines. The chain-driven Model M-4 was delivered to Cincinnati’s Company 13 in 1918. The 1958 cab forward Model ECB is the last fire engine ever produced by Ahrens-Fox. It was retired in 1981.

Early TV Museum

I have more than once seen the Early Television Museum mentioned in posts about under-the-radar museums in Ohio and told myself I should go there sometime. When that happened while early Cincinnati TV history was fresh in my mind from my recent visit to the Voice of America Museum, I decided now was the time. I went Saturday and was quite impressed.

The Kuba Komet in the opening photograph might be the newest item in the museum. I picked it not because of its age but because I thought it the most eye-catching thing there. It’s from England and was, in 1962, a complete entertainment system with a turntable and AM/SW radio concealed by panels. At 7 feet wide and 5 foot 7 inches tall, it was probably a bit intimidating.

I’m not sure what the oldest item is in the museum, but it must be something in the mechanical television gear from the 1920s and 1930s. There is a description of just how mechanical television works on the wall, but it did not help me much. To me, mechanical TV might be even more mysterious than electronic TV.

Apparently, the British were a step or two ahead of us during the earliest days of television. Most of the displayed items from the mechanical era are British. This is a British electronic television from 1938. It originally sold for about 135 pounds (approx. 11,612 pounds or 15,029 dollars today). The earliest picture tubes were often quite long and were mounted vertically to reduce their footprint. Mirrors allowed viewing while seated.

Television was introduced to Americans at the 1939 World’s Fair, and these two General Electric models were part of that introduction. Apparently, G.E. was making some picture tubes short enough to mount horizontally. Both models were priced somewhere around $600 ($13,626 today).

My earliest memory of television comes from 1950 when I was bribed with a Coke to sit quietly on top of the cooler while my Dad and a few other men watched the Saturday (I think) fights at the village’s only store on a screen about the size of one of the smaller ones in these pictures. Most items on display have a placard with considerable information about the item and most of those placards have a QR code that accesses even more information on the museum’s website. There is a tremendous amount of history on display here.

Voice of America Museum Revisited

The nearby National Voice of America Museum of Broadcasting reopened last month after a seven-month closure for refurbishing. I visited the museum back in 2022 but had been hearing about the update and decided to fill an idle Saturday with a return visit. One thing that is different from the last time is noticeable from the outside. Visitors now enter from the side rather than the front. I’m guessing that’s part of the recent rework, but it might have been that way beforehand.

I arrived a few minutes ahead of the day’s first guided tour, and I used those minutes to look over the Cincinnati radio and TV displays near the entrance. Cincinnati was a real leader in the early development of both forms of broadcasting. The pictures are of the Larry Smith Puppets and the Ruth Lyons set. Smith came to fame on the Uncle Al Show and later had a show of his own. Ruth was a true pioneer in daytime talk TV. Note the converted-to-color Predicta TV next to Ruth’s sofa.

When I visited in 2022, the display of Cincinnati’s commercial broadcasting history was kind of like a big attic. These nicely designed exhibits are typical of the improvements made during the recent refurbishing. 

When the United States entered World War II, Cincinnati’s WLW was using this 50,000-watt transmitter to broadcast entertainment to South America via shortwave. The newly created Voice of America initially rented the transmitter and started broadcasting on February 1, 1942, less than two months after the bombing of Pearl Harbor. In the second picture, Joe, our guide, demonstrates how shortwave signals reflect off of the ionosphere and bounce around the globe.

The Volksempfänger (people’s receiver) existed to bring Nazi propaganda into German homes, and USSR-built transistor receivers did the same for the Soviet Block. The VOA never managed to get its programming to the Volksempfängers, but the BBC did. People figured out how to tweak the Soviet radios to pick up both. Incidentally, VOA has never broadcast propaganda, rightfully believing that broadcasting the truth is more effective.

Within about a year and a half, the building that is now the museum was complete, equipment was in place, and a huge array of antennas was erected. The last picture is just the front panels of the 250,000-watt transmitter, which is not just room-sized — it’s a room. I think at least half of our tour group stepped inside at the same time without a hint of crowding.

Here is something left over from World War II that is still pretty useful. 

America’s Packard Museum Revisited

On Friday, my friend Terry and I visited America’s Packard Museum in Dayton, Ohio. This seems to be a once-a-decade thing for me, with my first visit coming in September 2000 and the second in March 2011. Even though this was my third visit and Terry’s first, we both saw — or at least noticed — some new things. For me, those things embarrassingly included this Adonis, a.k.a, Sliding Boy, hood ornament. 

I was familiar with the Goddes of Speed and Cormorant ornaments described here. But, despite having seen plenty of Packards, both in and out of museums, the existence of the Adonis ornament had never registered with me. The ornament in the opening photo is on a 1930 Boat-Tail Speedster and is the one that finally caught my attention. Any thoughts that this was my first time being exposed to an Adonis ornament are completely done in by this detail from a photo of that same car taken in 2011.

By coincidence, we were there on a day when Lola Signom, widow of museum founder and namesake Robert Signom, was volunteering. It was Lola who explained to me that a choice of three different hood ornaments was once available to Packard buyers. The Sliding Boy seems to have been the least popular of the three. Another friendly museum staff member also answered multiple questions and supplied lots of information. Although I read his name tag with the best of intentions, my memory has again failed me, so I have to thank him namelessly.

And now for some cars. Straight ahead of the entrance is a 1902 Model F, which I believe is the oldest car in the museum. Just to the right of the entrance is the museum’s newest car, a 1958 Packard Hawk. Packard merged with Studebaker in 1954, and the products essentially became Packards in name only. The prominent front corner spot is occupied by a 1934 Super 8 7-passenger Touring car that has carried General Eisenhower, Admiral Nimitz, and other big names.

Many things about this 1934 Super Eight Sport Phaeton impressed me, but I think the two biggest are that it has not been restored and that it was purchased new for a 16-year-old girl who might have been a little bit spoiled. Read its placard here

Although this 1941 One Twenty convertible is only seven years newer than the convertible in the last paragraph, it has a column shift which our poor little rich girl may have found easier to drive. Of course, she still might have disliked the color.

Here is that Boat-Tail Speedster whose hood ornament appears in the opening photo. Packard built trucks between 1908 and 1923 and they were used quite a bit by the Army in WW I. The top speed of this 1919 Model E Five Ton Truck is 11 MPH which is no doubt more than enough for a driver depending on those solid rubber tires for cushioning. The 1918 Twin Six Runabout competed in the 2002 Great Race and is now available as a photo prop at the museum.

There is now an enclosed walkway to the museum’s annex. Signs say that post-war cars are featured there, though some might see a problem with the first car pictured. It sure looks like the “Dutch” Darrin-designed cars that people like Clark Gable and Errol Flynn liked to be seen driving in the late 1930s and early 1940s. It is exactly like those because it was built by “Dutch” Darrin using existing castings and molds in 1971. There is no question about the other two pictured cars being post-war. The 1951 200 Club Sedan placed fifth overall in the 1951 Carrera Panamericana with the help of a young mechanic named Pablo Merrigan. In 1995, Merrigan completely restored the car and began racing it himself. The last car pictured is the one that took Don Corleone to the cemetery in The Godfather. It’s a 1948 Henney Landau 3-Way Hearse. The 3-way designation comes from the rear-hinged side doors allowing coffins to be loaded from either side or the rear.

Packard began building cars in Warren, Ohio, in 1899 but moved to Detroit, Michigan, in 1902, where it remained until the merger with Studebaker in 1954. Plans to restore various parts of the immense complex never came to fruition. According to Wikipedia, “By late December 2024, all structural components of the plant had been razed, except for two adjacent sections along E. Grand Boulevard which are slated for preservation.” This is the lintel from the west entrance to the Packard office building on East Grand Boulevard in Detroit.

There is a Packard museum in Warren, and I’ve visited it three times (2011, 2012, 2023) between Friday and my most recent visit to the Dayton museum. The National Packard Museum in Warren and America’s Packard Museum in Dayton are both great museums, and both are worth visiting. I do naturally feel some regional pride in the Dayton museum, and I like that it is housed in a building constructed as a Packard distributorship, which served that purpose for many years and now has its original neon sign hanging outside. Visiting either is good. Both is better.