Tag Archives: Museum

International Peace Museum
Dayton, OH

Posted on by
Reply

Here’s another not-new-to-me museum. My personal history with the International Peace Museum is a bit different than that with the Harmon Museum or Behringer-Crawford Museum in that an earlier visit was documented. That first visit took place more than a year before this blog was born, when this sort of thing was covered as an Oddment. The Oddment entry for my 2009 visit is here.

Another difference between this museum and those others is that the Peace Museum has moved since I last visited. It now shares a building with a Ludlow Street address, and that is how I entered. But the museum extends all the way through its half of the first floor and can be accessed from Courthouse Square. That’s the side pictured in the opening photo. A straight-on view of that mural is here, and of the adjacent text panel here.

The lobby was set up for a presentation scheduled for later in the day. The column to the left of the first photo is called the Peach Pole. Among the images covering it, the word “peace” appears in the twenty most commonly spoken languages in Dayton. Hand-drawn panels hanging overhead make up an exhibit named “Bridges”. The lobby also contains a pretty cool neon sign.

The Anti-War Gallery was the first room I entered off the lobby. Most of the artwork is from Beryl Bernay and J. Kadar Cannon. The sculpture in the middle of the room is by Lori Park.

The founding of the International Peace Museum in Dayton in 2004 was at least partially an outgrowth of the city being the site of the signing of the Dayton Peace Accords in 1995, and the museum contains a sizable exhibit devoted to that event. The accords did end the violence of the Bosnian War, but, like so many agreements before and since, left lots of problems unsolved.

An equal amount of space is devoted to the North Atlantic Treaty Organization. Last year’s 75th anniversary is noted, along with many of its peachkeeping successes during those years.

This guitar is the only item I distinctly remember from my 2009 visit. As described here, it belonged to conscientious objector  Ted Studebaker, who was killed in Vietnam in 1971 while helping farmers there. Studebaker was from nearby West Milton, OH. 

Rembrandt at the Taft

Posted on by
2

There is currently an exhibit at the Taft Museum of Art called “Rembrandt: Masterpieces in Black and White“. I’m not very knowledgeable about art, but I thought the black and white part of that might not really be necessary. I would not call any of the few pieces of art I connect with the Dutch Master overly colorful. Yes, the fellow at the center of his most famous painting, The Night Watch, has a reddish sash and another fellow is wearing a reddish hat and uniform, but neither is particularly bright, and they are essentially the only splashes of color in the entire scene.

There is, as advertised, even less color in the works in this exhibit. It is made up of monochrome prints from etchings. The etchings are often rather small, and they can be quite detailed. Loaner magnifying glasses are available near the entrance to help make that detail visible. Also near the entrance is a timeline that places Rembrandt’s life (1606-1669) within the context of world events and other artists. The man had quite the impact. Bright colors, it seems, aren’t really necessary.

There are 49 prints from Rembrandt etchings on display, and, as noted and as can be seen, most are just a few inches in size. The cost of materials and a desire for portability were both reasons for this. Rembrandt made several self-portraits during his career, but this one from 1633 is said to be the first he signed and dated.

Since I know even less about etching than I do about almost every other art form, I found this display quite helpful. It seems the artist etches into a waxy layer applied to a copper plate, then acid does the etching into the metal.

In addition to the 49 Rembrandt etchings, the exhibit includes nine etchings he inspired others to create. One of those inspired was James Whistler, who, as we see here, used his niece as a model in addition to his more famous mother.

Admission to the Taft Museum of Art includes access to all permanent galleries, as well as this traveling exhibit of etchings from the Rembrandt House Museum in Amsterdam. Here is one of several connections between the two. This 1651 etching of Clement de Jonghe is cited as an example of Rembrant’s mastery of light and shadow and of his use of people’s expressions and gestures. The 1633 Portrait of a Man Rising from His Chair is an even better example of Rembrandt’s use of these.

“Rembrandt: Masterpieces in Black and White” is here through May 17, 2026.

It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad Exhibition

Posted on by
Reply

Almost from the minute the Cincinnati Art Museum announced that What, Me Worry? The Art and Humor of MAD Magazine was on the way; I have been part of a group numbering 2 to 6+ that made and scrapped multiple plans to attend. At last, three of us made it on Friday. We all had Mad Magazine memories. Two of us were almost exactly the same age, with memories from the late 1950s through the 1960s and maybe a little beyond. The third member of the group was some three decades younger with memories correspondingly offset. The exhibit covers Mad from its 1952 beginning, which means we each saw things we remembered, even if we didn’t remember everything.

Of course, one thing that everybody remembers is Alfred E. Neuman. He first appeared in the magazine in 1954 and soon became a near constant presence on the cover. There is definitely a connection with the 1914 “Original Optimist” drawing, but the image goes back even further. The opening “Will worry for food” image is much newer. It is the October 2009 cover, which I don’t believe I had seen previously, but it sure fits what I would expect from Mad in the twenty-first century.


Mad started out as a comic book, then became a magazine with this cover in July 1955. Note that Alfred E. Neuman appears in the banner at the top, although he had not yet been identified by name. Among the changes this brought was the ability to satirize government officials, which was something disallowed by the Comics Code Authority of 1954.

Don Martin was an absolute favorite of mine, and seeing his artwork for the cover of 1962’s Don Martin Steps Out! was a real treat. His “PAY TOLL FIFTY FEET” from the March 1980 magazine back cover is a true classic.

This was the biggest surprise for me, though maybe it should not have been. I know of Frank Frazetta from his outstanding work in fantasy and science fiction, but did not realize that he had ever been connected with Mad. This is one of three back covers he did for the magazine, and he also did one cover. “Early One Morning in the Jungle” was in the October 1966 issue, so it is possibly the first Frank Frazetta piece of art I ever saw.

One of the things Mad Magazine did best was satirizing movies and TV shows. It also had a knack for slipping jokes into comic strips that had nothing to do with the story and which (at least in my case) might not even be caught until the second or third reading. This spoof of “Wonder Woman” is an example of both. Diana Banana (Woman Wonder) and Steve Adore engage in a silhouetted display of affection near signs pointing to “Proving Grounds”, “Inproving Grounds”, “Coffee Grounds”, etc.

A long-running feature that first appeared during my peak Mad infatuation was the fold-in. Presented as the opposite of fold-outs from Playboy and others, fold-ins began appearing in 1964. As I looked over these framed examples, I wondered at the lack of “folded” versions, but was relieved to see a rack of creased pages on the wall. Some of the folding had probably not been all that precise, and certainly wasn’t after a bunch of repeats, but they all worked just fine to reveal the “real” pictures. If you want to do some digital “folding-in” on your own, there are some interactive examples here.

The exhibit is organized in a loose chronological sequence, and I was starting to get concerned about finding something on one of my favorite features. “Spy vs. Spy” came along in 1961, and I was well into the second half of the exhibit before these popped up. It’s pretty fuzzy, but there’s a slightly more readable version of that second image here. Incidentally, small sketches often appeared in the margins of the magazine, and that is sort of mimicked here with sketches on the walls, like the one with both spies in a bomb. Antonio Prohías, a Cuban refugee, originated the strip and drew it until 1987. The first pictured strip is his from March 1983. Peter Kuper picked up the strip full-time in 1997 and switched to color in 2001. The second pictured strip is his from June 2004. That one doesn’t work for me. That’s not in any way a dig on Kuper’s talent. I remember black-and-white drawings of a black character and a white character, each believing they were the good guy, even though it was starkly evident there was no difference between them at all. I suppose that’s still there with colored backgrounds, but it somehow seems less obvious.

What, Me Worry? The Art and Humor of MAD Magazine is here through March 1. It’s even free on Thursday evenings between 5:00 and 8:00..

Harmon Museum
Lebanon, Ohio

Posted on by
2

It might be apparent that I occasionally use a museum visit to feed a post for an otherwise idle week. And I’m sure it’s no surprise that I find some of those targets through various online searches containing the word “museum.” Without giving it too much thought, I’ve filtered out of the results museums that are too close or too familiar. I recently asked myself why. Why was I refusing to document visits to places I knew were interesting simply because they were not new discoveries? I had no answer, which means I now have a few not-new-to-me candidates for future idle weeks. Here’s the first: Harmon Museum, just one county and a dozen miles from home.

The first gallery inside the entrance is filled with art, and no photos of the wonderful paintings and sculptures on display are permitted. The art gallery leads to the Armstrong Conference Center, housed in the attached former post office. Two ladies were meeting at one of the tables, and I quickly apologized for interrupting. They weren’t the least bit annoyed and paused their discussion to make sure I crossed the open room to see the aeronautics exhibit at the front of the building. Neil Armstrong spent his final years in Lebanon, and most of the items, including the golden Frisbee for his “step into the future“, are related to his life. Non-Armstrong-related items include Orville Wright’s hat. I had a very nice chat with the ladies at the table as I passed them on the way back to the main museum. One said that if I were still in the museum when they finished, she would point out a few of her favorite things.

Back at the entrance to the main museum, I was greeted by a 1908 Buick Model D and an early U.S Mail wagon. Beyond them were some other early vehicles. I have seen quite a few signs like the one in the last photo in the wild, and I’m sure my road fan friends have too. The Oregonia Bridge Company was incorporated in 1896 in the small nearby town of Oregonia. Rapid growth prompted relocation to Lebanon in 1903.

Next up was a room filled with some very impressive folk art. I found the painting in the far right corner, by Jimmy Lee Sudduth (1910-2007), particularly interesting. A few of this blog’s posts have touched on the difficulty of keeping our man-made calendars in sync with the cosmos, which is sort of the subject of the painting. As Mr. Sudduth notes, the sun and our calendar last matched up in 2000 and won’t do it again until 2400. Lucky to be alive to experience one such alignment, I guess.

The adjacent room contained an impressive collection of locally found arrow and spear points, axe heads, and other prehistoric tools. It was here that Hope, the lady I met in the Armstrong Conference Center, caught up with me and told me that this was her favorite room in the building. She pointed out some items in the room and even demonstrated, short of a final launch, the workings of an atlatl.

I was then treated to a guided “highlights tour” of the rest of the museum. As we moved upward through the exhibits, Hope called various items to my attention and shared some information about each one. This bed was a product of the Cincinnati Art-Carved Furniture Movement of the late 19th century. This was a rather major movement powered primarily by women, and something I previously knew absolutely nothing about. I guess this desk was not among Hope’s favorites, but it was among mine. Thomas Corwin was a Lebanon lawyer who had great success in politics. He served in both houses of the U.S. Congress and as the U.S. Secretary of the Treasury, along with several positions within Ohio, including governor. This desk is from his time as Ohio’s 15th governor (1840-1842).

Following the “highlight tour”, I returned to Shaker Gallery on the top floor. In the early 19th century, a large colony of this communal religious group stood in nearby Turtlecreek Township, and the museum has many articles from there. Pictured are a laundry room, a textile room, and a kitchen. Curiously, one of the few items accompanied by instructions is one where they are probably not needed.

The building housing the museum was originally built as a gymnasium with a large space where basketball games and other athletic activities took place. Basketball hoops were once mounted where the clock and the 1876 38-star flag are now. The rocking chairs are among Hope’s favorites, and she commented that she thought this collection was one of the world’s largest when we passed it. According to this placard, rocking originated in America. I suppose it’s only natural that we eventually combined it with rolling.

The space where basketball was once played is now surrounded by several shops, forming a sort of old-time town square.

The museum is well organized, but there is no single correct path through it. That’s even more the case when you make a pass taking advantage of someone’s favorites before falling into your own meandering. There was very little coherent sequencing in the preceding photos, and there is even less from here on out. This is simply a trio of my own favorites. The IBM time clock was purchased in 1947 by the previously mentioned Oregonia Bridge Company. Read about it here. The most interesting thing for me in the blacksmith shop is the framed shoes on the wall. Read about them here. The furniture in the last photo came from the Glendower Historic Mansion. I learned today that the mansion was home to the first incarnation of the Warren County Historical Society Museum. Over the years, it was owned and administered by the WCHS and the Ohio History Connection. Most recently, the WCHS was the owner. It closed in 2022 and is now a private residence. I visited it during a period when OHC owned it.

That there is a goodly amount of farming gear on display is not a surprise. That there is a collection of phenomenal ship models is. Finding a display about gunpowder and cartridge manufacturing might surprise some, but not anyone really familiar with the area.

The entrance pictured at the top of this article is located at what might be considered the rear of the building, where it is conveniently near a parking lot. The front of the building faces Broadway, and that is where this statue of Warren County’s namesake, Dr. Joseph Warren, stands. The statue was dedicated just months ago on the 250th anniversary of Dr. Warren’s death at the Battle of Bunker Hill on June 17, 1775. A somewhat more readable version of the text on the sign is here. The QR code at the sign’s upper right leads here.

Not Long Ago. Not Far Away.

Posted on by
Reply

On Saturday, October 18, “Auschwitz. Not long ago. Not far away.” opened at the Cincinnati Museum Center. I attended on Wednesday. The red shoe pictured at right is one of the first items visitors see when they enter the exhibit. Photos of the shoe, backed by the image of countless other empty shoes, have been used to promote the display. The wall-filling image boggles the mind as the realization that the owners of all those shoes walked into Auschwitz but never walked out slowly forms. The mind nearly breaks realizing that the photo contains just a fraction of such shoes.

Having seen pictures of that red shoe, and knowing that this was “the largest collection of artifacts from Auschwitz outside of Europe”, I probably could have predicted the question that formed as I moved into the exhibit and listened to the included audio guide. It’s a question that most of us ask ourselves anytime we give much thought to the Holocaust. “How could this have happened?” we wonder. The exhibit doesn’t really explain it, but it does tell some of the history. It describes and displays artifacts from the small Polish village that would become home to the largest of the Nazi concentration and extermination camps.

Establishing that the “other” was responsible for all of Germany’s problems was essential. The “other” was mostly, but not exclusively, Jews. Blacks, Roma, homosexuals, and people with disabilities were among those persecuted by the Nazis.

This is the desk of the camp commandant, Rudolf Höss. Photos of key Auschwitz personnel are displayed nearby with an identifying legend.

Roughly 80% of those arriving at Auschwitz were sent directly to the gas chambers. The other 20% became slaves, and not many survived the starvation, beatings, and forced labor. Many more than three people occupied the three-tiered bunks. The concrete post held barbed wire, as seen in the photo in the background.

Some of the prisoners were “rented” to various privately held companies, but many were assigned tasks in the camp, such as removing bodies from the gas chambers or moving them through the crematorium. The first photo contains items from gas chambers and crematoriums. There is a “shower head” in the lower right corner. The gas mask in the second photo was worn by a soldier who dropped the Zyklon B once the chamber was sealed.

Other prisoners were forced to sort through the few possessions that actually made it to the camp. Prisoners referred to the sorting sheds as Kanada.

There were several benches placed throughout the exhibit. Many were positioned in front of screens showing videos of scenes related to the camps. All had a box of tissues placed at their center. There was no lack of tear-inducing images, artifacts, and stories in the exhibit. Nearly all of the items on display are from the Auschwitz-Birkenau State Museum. The last picture is of a quote from the director of that museum about remembrance. I immediately thought of Eisenhower’s 1945 command, “Get it all on record now. Get the films, get the witnesses, because somewhere down the track of history some bastard will get up and say this never happened.” He was right, of course. That quote on the wall notes that today “…our efforts to build a more just and humane world are under threat.” Nearer the beginning of this article, there is a photo of a quote about  “…the disappearance of a number of quite harmless people…” It’s from 1938 Germany during the Nazi rise to power. As I read it, it occurred to me that it could have easily come from certain Central or South American countries a few decades ago. Or it could have come from somewhere not even that far away or that long ago.

“Auschwitz. Not long ago. Not far away.” runs through April 12, 2026.

The Holocaust and Humanities Center helped bring the Auschwitz exhibit to Cincinnati. Although a separate operation, it is housed in the Cincinnati Museum Center and throughout the exhibit’s run is offering discounted adult admission of $7.50 to anyone presenting an “Auschwitz. Not long ago. Not far away.” ticket. This rate is available year-round to seniors and military.

Naturally, there is overlap between the Auschwitz displays and those in the Holocaust Museum. A notable example is this molded wall of abandoned shoes that echoes the red shoe and large photo from Auschwitz. But there are also a lot of differences. The museum has many interactive displays, and the story it tells is broader than the one with a specific concentration camp at its center. In particular, the museum continues the story well beyond the liberation of the prisoners with reporting on the post-war trials and tales of recovery.

When I spoke with a friend about the Auschwitz exhibit, I encouraged a follow-on visit to the Holocaust Museum, and it wasn’t just because of the broader story. The Holocaust is humanity at its worst. Studying it and acknowledging it is important and necessary, but it is hardly uplifting. The museum offsets that just a little by presenting recent examples of bigotry being defeated and human rights being defended. Your mood probably won’t be exactly celebratory when you leave, but it very well might be hopeful.

With every museum that exists, it is always possible to see something you’ve previously missed when you revisit. But sometimes that new discovery really is something new. That is the case with this recently installed interactive display featuring Albert Miller (1922-2023). Albert, who escaped Europe with his parents in 1940, then returned as a Nazi interrogator in 1943, tirelessly answers spoken questions about the life he lived.

I documented my first visit to the museum here. 

An Ohio Meeting

Posted on by
2

It has been a long time since I attended an Ohio Lincoln Highway League annual meeting. Longer, perhaps, than I realize, as I can find no evidence of attendance since 2014. There seems to almost always be a conflict in my schedule, but not this year. Canton, the meeting’s location, is a little too far away to make the round trip in a day. When I planned an overnight in a nearby town, I discovered that the path there passed quite close to a favorite brewery. With that, I thought my itinerary was set.

However, when I was ready to head out on Friday morning, I realized that there was no need to hurry on expressways, so I swapped I-71 for US-22. That allowed me to stop for breakfast at Kim’s Classic Diner in Sabina. I typically sit at the counter, but was in a booth today and was able to get a shot of an empty counter when the area was briefly empty. I stayed with US-22 to Zanesville, and that let me stop by Tom’s Ice Cream Bowl for some French Vanilla Cherry Chocolate Chunk, which disappeared before I could get a picture. I then headed to that favorite brewery, Wooly Pig Farm, on OH-93. OH-93 is quickly becoming one of my favorite wiggly roads.

President Scott Little presided over the meeting. The league is comprised of three chapters, each of which has more or less monthly meetings throughout the year. This yearly meeting is the only one involving the entire state. Scott is also president of the Western Ohio Chapter and delivered the report of that chapter’s activities for the year.

Mike McNaull, of the Mid-Ohio chapter, and Ed Cannane, of the Eastern Ohio Chapter, delivered reports of their chapter’s activities. All three chapters do some things for their members’ enjoyment and an awful lot to promote and maintain the Lincoln Highway in their areas.

A presentation by someone from the National First Ladies Library and Museum, followed by a visit to the museum, had been planned, but the government shutdown scuttled that. Jim Cassler’s presentation on this summer’s tour of the Lincoln Highway’s middle third was a fine substitution. A tour of the eastern third happened in 2022, and the trilogy will be completed in 2028 during the centennial of the final 1928 realignment and the setting of the concrete markers.

The Saxton McKinley House, home to the library portion of the not-to-be-visited-today National First Ladies Library and Museum, is directly across the street from the meeting site. A visit to the Canton Classic Car Museum, about a block away, would proceed as planned.

One of the museum’s prized possessions is a 1937 armored Studebaker. There are definitely plenty of really cool cars here, but there is more. If a fragile lamp with a single leg is a “major award”, what might this four-limbed illuminator be? 

Possibly one reason I failed to photograph my ice cream at Tom’s was the conversation I had with a couple beside me. They were headed home to Kentucky after a vacation that included a stop for ice cream in Canton, which is where they learned of Tom’s. I reversed the story and stopped in Canton for ice cream at a place I’d learned of at Tom’s. The wooden booths at Taggart’s Ice Cream looked inviting, but I enjoyed my Black Walnut outside.

I was a little disappointed when I realized that the meeting date was the same as the planned nationwide No Kings protests. I would not be able to attend one in my home territory, but was pleasantly surprised to learn that the one in Canton would be taking place later than most, and I could possibly make it. A sizable crowd was already in place when I arrived about half an hour ahead of the scheduled 5:00 start, and it was still growing when I left for home about 5:30. A fellow I spoke with said this was already a bigger turnout than last time.

I’ll close with a reminder of why I was in Canton. I’m pretty sure Mr. Lincoln would be proud of the nation crossing highway with his name on it. I also think he would approve of the sentiments expressed in signs being held in demonstrations all across that same nation, though not necessarily of all of the language.

A Thoroughly Modern Attic

Posted on by
Reply

Museums in small towns are sometimes referred to as the village attic. Some of them really do resemble an old farmhouse attic with little filtering or organization of objects displayed. Most, however, display items in an organized manner that avoids looking overcrowded. Part of how this is accomplished is by being selective in what items are displayed and having only a portion — often a very small portion — of the museum’s collection on display at any one time. As the state’s attic, the Ohio History Connection is very organized, with a rather tiny fraction of its collection on display and the bulk stored elsewhere. Last year, it got a brand new “attic”, and on Thursday, I got to see it.

The occasion was an architectural tour preceded by a reception and presentation. I didn’t realize that food would be available, but I did realize that it was National Cheeseburger Day. I enjoyed the lemonade, but I skipped the food because I had just left Urban Gourmet, where I had celebrated the holiday.

The tour began with a presentation in the auditorium. Several people gave short presentations about different aspects of the project, which began several years ago with the Collection Care Center opening in June 2024. I happened to catch architect Carlos Lugo at the podium.

Following the presentation, we all went out to our cars and drove from the museum, past Ohio Village, to the Collection Care Center on the north side of the campus. At the door, the fifty or so attendees were split into smaller groups to tour the building.

The group I was in began our tour in the actual storage section. Among the wide range of things stored here are lots of fossils. Some are authentic, while others are cast copies. 

The bones of mastodon feet aren’t typically found intact in the wild. These are castings from assembled fragments. I thought a shelf filled with mastodon feet was pretty unusual, regardless of whether they were bone or plaster.

There is an enclosed loading dock at the other end of the building with offices, lab areas, and an extra-wide corridor in between.We paused in that corridor to learn about the building’s use of pre-formed concrete to speed construction and about other efficiency-focused aspects of the building. We then went outside to learn more about the climate control systems. I have the impression that the majority of attendees were architects. For many, hearing these details was as practical as it was entertaining. I was very impressed by the thoughtful answers to the building’s many unique requirements, but that was probably fueled as much by things I didn’t understand as by those I did.

Our last stop was just outside the front door after we passed back through the building. Here we learned about the landscaping. Native plants are used, and there is no mown lawn. There are some paved as well as gravel paths with a few benches along the way. Several glacial erratics encountered during excavation have been incorporated. The place has been incredibly well thought through, both inside and out.

For a much better overview of the project than I’ve provided, I suggest an article and video published by The Columbus Dispatch when the center opened. It is here. 

 

An Auto Park Turns Two

Posted on by
7

I’ve not been overly secretive about the fact that I’m generally not crazy about bright and shiny brand-new diners or diners of any vintage with a hard-core Marilyn & Elvis vibe. Just the “bright & shiny” thing is probably enough to explain why I’ve passed the 4 Speed on 50 Diner multiple times without stopping. Two Fridays ago, I was headed home from a spot a bit deeper into Indiana than Lawrenceburg with a stomach empty enough and a bladder full enough to pull me in. Inside was a staff so friendly and food so good that I was very glad I stopped. I sat at the counter and watched this burger prepared on the grill in front of me, then ate it. I swear it didn’t look that big on the menu. At some point, I asked the cook about the museum I’d seen signs for, and he pointed to a fellow he called one of the owners at the end of the counter. He explained that the museum contained some very interesting cars but had just closed for the day. Then he went on to tell me the diner’s second anniversary was being celebrated in just over a week with some special entertainment and the weekly Cars & Coffee.

I decided that was a good activity for an absolutely beautiful Saturday, and headed over in time to catch a decent chunk of Cars & Coffee. The day’s entertainment highlight would be a renowned Elvis impersonator, but that was scheduled for the evening when I intended to be sitting quietly at home. I did get to see one of the event’s guest celebrities, however. This Ford appeared in the Movie Hoosiers. I confess to being one of the few people in the world and possibly the only male over 16 living within 60 miles of Milan, IN, carrying that shame. Yeah, I know. I will fix that someday. I promise.

The setup here is sort of a car culture campus. A separate website, 4 Speed on 50 Auto Park, covers the non-diner part of the operation. The Hoosier car is displayed in front of the diner. Cars & Coffee makes use of a parking area between the diner and an associated gas station so that diner access is not affected. I’m guessing that might not remain the case once the Elvis crowd starts rolling in. There appeared to be a pretty decent turnout, and it certainly included some real classics.

Once I had checked out all the cars, I went inside and don’t even pretend you’re surprised. There’s a real greeter with a real smile just out of frame to the left. I once again sat at the counter and watched as my meal was cooked. It was then delivered with a smile. This time it was a Local Omelet (goetta, onion, peppers, mushrooms, cheddar jack cheese). After eating, I carefully selected and then made use of one of the restrooms.

Now I was ready to visit that museum. When I purchased my ticket, the fellow I had spoken with the previous week was sitting nearby, and I made a comment about him being the owner. His dad was the actual owner, he now explained as he walked with me to the museum entrance. Both he and his dad were named Steve, and there was a third Steve who helped run the place I would probably encounter while I was there. Not long after he left, I was looking over a 1969 427 Corvette when three men entered, and I made some joke about one or two of them being Steve. I was off by one. One was the owner and creator of the complex, and one was the other Steve I’d just been told about. The third was a visiting friend who was also named Steve. So, minutes after learning the name of Steve the Younger, I met Steve the Elder, Steve the Other, and Steve the Visitor.

Steve TE has brought together a rather impressive collection of cars spanning a wide range of years and styles. Some are extremely rare, and many have remarkably low mileage. I believe the oldest car in the museum is the 1911 Brass Era Model T Ford. The 2010 Hit King Edition Camaro is one of just 27 made. Pete Rose signed the engine covers, and each car came with a spare, unsigned cover, in case the owner wanted to save the signature and actually use the car. The 1948 Buick parade car once belonged to the family that owned the land where the museum now stands. It had been sold before Steve TE bought the land, but he managed to track it down and have it restored.

There’s really a lot more than cars here. Guys who put together car collections like this seem to naturally pick up lots of other things car-related, as well as some stuff that’s not really car-related at all. The cigarette vending machine served up a pack of smokes when a dime and a nickel were inserted simultaneously. Out of view are climate-controlled spaces similar to those seen here that are rented by individuals for car storage. And even the public space isn’t exactly all museum. A large section called The Hub can be rented for private events and has been the site of birthday and graduation parties, club meetings, and at least one wedding. Of course, parts of it do look pretty much like a museum.

For a different view of some of the cars and maybe some fun and games, climb the stairs to the mezzanine. I did and snapped pictures that include the Hit King Camaro, the Brass Era T, and Steve TO waiting for me to come back down. He basically gave me a fully guided tour and answered every question I had, including some called down from the mezzanine.

The mezzanine also provides a nice overlook of the diner and US-50 passing by. I’ve not suddenly become a fan of brand-new chrome-plated diners, and I’ll probably still cringe a little when I next find myself knee deep in Elvis & Marilyn paraphernalia, but Steve Caudill… I mean, Steve TE and his wife, Barbara, have created something pretty cool in Lawrenceburg, Indiana. The diner isn’t trying to pretend it’s something it’s not, and the museum’s impressive collection is very nicely presented. A miniature golf course is to be added to the complex in the near future. If the folks running that are as cheerful and competent as everyone I’ve met on my two visits, I might be tempted to pick up a putter for the first time in a few decades. Maybe not, though. I’m more likely to sip a milkshake while looking at cool cars and watching someone else count strokes.

Two for Four in Ohio

Posted on by
2

After my return visit to an outstanding Ohio museum last week, my thoughts rather naturally turned to other Ohio museums when considering activities for the mostly open following week. I settled on two I had never visited, then added a sunflower field and a nearly new member of the World’s Biggest club to create a four-stop Friday outing. Although I reached all four, only two can be counted as successful visits.

I actually knew there would be no blooming flowers at Tecumseh Land Trust before I left home. When I initially made my plans, I’d found some general information indicating that the field operated in August and September. A few days later, I learned that projected bloom dates for 2025 were near the end of September.

Of course, I considered dropping the field from my agenda, but my appetite was already aimed at one of my favorite restaurants in nearby Yellow Springs. So I stuck with the circuitous two-lane drive and breakfast at Sunrise Cafe rather than the direct but boring expressway route to my second stop. Maybe I’ll come back for a meal — with flowers — next month.

This was what the trip was more or less built around and what I anticipated being the trip’s highlight. Instead, it provided only an accidental selfie. I believe that when I first became aware of the National Barber Museum, all visits were by appointment only. At some point, regular hours on Fridays and Saturdays were added. I was disappointed when I saw the closed notice, but since I was there just a bit before the scheduled opening, I did what I probably should have done earlier. I called. I spoke, I assume, with museum director Mike Ippoliti, who explained that a lack of volunteers and his own recent foot surgery prevented normal operation at present. He expected regular hours to return in a few weeks. I wished Mike well in his recovery and headed to stop number three.

I missed the first two iterations of the Paul A. Johnson Pencil Sharpener Museum. The first iteration was assembled in a shed at Paul A. Johnson’s home. After Johnson’s death in 2010, the nearly 3,500 sharpeners and the shed housing them were moved to the Hocking Hills Regional Welcome Center near Logan, OH. In 2024, the deteriorating shed was replaced by the building on the right side of the first picture. By then, the collection had grown to somewhere around 5,000 sharpeners when the widow of Florida collector Frank Paredes donated all the sharpeners he had amassed to the museum.

The incredible collection includes sharpeners I remember from my school days, and some even older than that.

Just over two months before I got there, the town of Oak Hill, OH, erected this giant acorn and declared it the World’s Largest. As far as I know, Raleigh, NC, never claimed that the big nut dropped there on New Year’s Eve was the World’s Largest, but, having some experience with that particular acorn, I was curious about how they compared. It’s not really close. The Raleigh acorn is 10 feet tall, while the height of this one is 15 feet and 5 1/2 inches. That and other statistics are noted on a nearby sign. However, when I went looking for the dimensions of the Carolina nut, I learned that some folks in Silver Springs, MD, may have a legitimate challenge to Oak Hill’s claim. Take a look here. It doesn’t appear that the Guinness record trackers were involved in any of this, so where it all will lead is unclear.

Sunflowers had yet to arrive at the Tehcumseh Land Trust, but I did find some standing tall in the Pioneer Garden at the Hocking Hills Regional Welcome Center, and that lets me end this post on a bright note with a bright bloom.

Back to the Bikes

Posted on by
Reply

I have thought of revisiting the Bicycle Museum of America quite a few times in the more than two decades since my first visit. Sometimes it has been when I’m looking for a target for an interesting day trip, and sometimes it has been due to something more specific. The most recent specific event that triggered thoughts of the Ohio museum was my visit to the Cycle Through exhibit at the Cincinnati Art Museum. When I started getting serious about a trip to the bicycle museum, I naturally took a look at the journal for my 2002 visit and noted that I had driven a bit of OH-66 to get there, and that naturally reminded me that I had driven its full length a couple of years later on the first day of a two day trip. The museum visit journal is here. The journal for the OH-66 drive is here.

So, I headed to Piqua, OH, and the southern end of OH-66 at US-36. It has become a little fancier over the years and now sports a “BEGIN” tag. That the more famous Route 66 will reach its centennial next year is getting a lot of attention. The centennial of Ohio’s Route 66 was last year, but I missed it. I wished the route a belated 100th as I started my drive. Although I drove all of OH-66, the museum was the trip’s focus, and I did not make a lot of other stops.

Cars parked on the street in front of the museum kept me from getting a clear picture of the building. It and other older nearby buildings housing restaurants and such are well maintained and picturesque, and make New Bremen quite an attractive town. The attendant, whose name I have absolutely no excuse for not asking, was extremely friendly and helpful. One of the things I learned while planning this trip was that the museum owned one of four surviving Schwinn bicycles from Pee-wee’s Big Adventure. I suspected that this might be the one I had recently seen in Cincinnati, and started to ask. I did not quite get my question fully formed before learning that not only was that customized DX Cruiser on loan from the museum, but so was every other bicycle in the display. I should have known that. The Cycle Thru! description on the Cincinnati Art Museum’s website notes that it is made up of “over 20 bicycles from The Bicycle Museum of America in New Bremen, Ohio”. Just one more thing I missed.

The museum contains a replica of an 1816 Draisine, which is the earliest known use of motion to balance on two tandem wheels. There are, of course, quite a few penny-farthings among the historic vehicles on display. When I first heard that name many years ago, I initially thought it had something to do with cost, but soon learned that it came from the idea that those big-wheeled bicycles looked like a large British penny coin paired with a small farthing coin. In the middle of all those historic bicycles is something that looks more like a farthing-penny. It’s an American Star Highwheel, which tried to make things a little safer by putting the little wheel in front. The H.B. Smith Manufacturing Company, makers of the American Star, also patented a steam-powered bicycle, and yes, I would like to see one of those.

In fairly short order, inventors applied gears, chains, and straps to eliminate the need for a huge wheel to achieve a decent speed, and the penny-farthing became a thing of the past. In addition to those on display, the museum has one on rollers with “trainer steps” for anyone wanting to give it a try. Of course, inventors did not stop inventing. A different way to go riding with your friends can be seen on the wall behind the steps. Bicycles with driveshafts existed before the nineteenth century ended, and inline skates clearly aren’t as new as you might think.

Backed by one of the museum’s windows is a replica of a monocycle from 1869. The museum also has one of just thirty existing Monovelos from 2008. Monocycles are just plain weird. Fitting between these two date-wise is a 1998 motorized version at the Lane Motor Museum in Nashville.

The museum has about 800 bicycles in its collection, so even with twenty on loan in Cincinnati, there is no problem keeping a couple hundred on display. The challenge is picking which ones that will be. That’s the same challenge I have picking which photos to post. I could go on and on, but I’m going to cut it off here with a pair I have at least a tiny personal connection to. My first motorized vehicle was a 1948 or ’49 Whizzer. The one pictured is a 1950. That’s a 1949 J.C. Higgins Colorflow in the other photo. My first new vehicle was a 1960 J.C. Higgins Flightmaster that is the subject of what I believe is the most popular post ever on this blog. The Flightliner post is here. A post on the Whizzer is here. Before leaving, I learned that the museum has a 1960 girl’s Flightliner in storage. Flightliner fans, keep your eyes peeled. It could come out someday.

I did make a couple of stops beyond the museum, but they were related to my 2004 OH-66 drive rather than to OH-66 in general. Where the route ends at US-20 in Fayette, I was happy to see an “END” tag that was not there in 2004. I celebrated completing the route with a Budweiser in the same building where I celebrated in the same manner twenty-one years ago, but the name was now Freddy’s Place instead of Harry’s Tavern, and the Bud came in a can instead of a bottle.

I also repeated my dinner stop in Archbold, where Mom’s Diner was not only still in business but had a new pseudo-neon sign hanging out front. With the exception of a few details, the inside looked essentially the same. I did not record what I ate in 2004, but today I had the fish sandwich special. The place was fairly busy when I arrived and just about full when I left. That not only kept me from taking many photos, but it also interfered with my jukebox playing. In ’04, I played “That’ll Be The Day”, but today it wasn’t an option. In ’04, I had the juke box all to myself, but that wasn’t at all the case today. By the time I settled on “Rock Around the Clock”, someone had beaten me to it. My quarter went for “Mack the Knife” by Louis Armstrong and His All Stars.