The Giants of Illinois
Just back from a long weekend in Illinois, the Land of Lincoln; or just as fittingly, the Land of Giants. Abe Lincoln himself could be labeled as a giant, especially when wearing his signature stovetop hat that would have him almost at seven feet. Not only did he have an imposing stature, but his presence also looms large in Illinois. Everywhere you go, there is Abe. When shopping at the Pink Elephant Antiques in Taylorville, Lincoln welcomes you in, giving you his blessing for an honest deal. Larger statues of presidents outside can’t guarantee as much with their little hands of empty promises.
Out on the lawn in front of the Best Western in Lincoln, IL, Abe is deep in a book simply titled “LAW” while riding in the largest covered wagon in the world. (Who knew there was such a competition?)
The town of Springfield has it particularly bad for Lincoln, as this was where he started as a lawyer, and later where he was laid to rest. You can’t go for a few blocks without seeing honest Abe plastered on some local business: Lincolnland Roofing, Land of Lincoln Legal Aid, Mr. Lincoln Souvenir and Gifts (you get the idea). A skinny Abe is the unofficial mascot to the state fair ground, welcoming everyone, while keeping his axe nearby in case anyone gets out of line.
Another giant of Illinois is Robert Pershing Wadlow. While he may not be the great emancipator, he was great in the eyes of his hometown of Alton, and to every school child who perused the Guinness Book of World Records. While I’ve certainly forgotten all those facts I memorized in elementary school from this record book, I have never forgotten the story of the world’s tallest man.
Robert Wadlow grew to eight feet and four inches but was never burdened by his disability. He travelled 300,000 miles and 41 states sponsored by the shoe company who made his customized size 18 shoes. While he loved telling his story, he never wanted to be seen as an oddity, never a freak on stage. He shared this same conviction with Alton’s other hometown hero, Miles Davis. Miles was famous for turning his back on the audience, always letting the music speak for itself. Robert shared the same resolve, refusing to wear a top hat when touring with Barnum and Bailey and never setting foot in their freak show. But his feet were ultimately his downfall with a foot infection that turned deadly at age 22. Over 46,000 came to his funeral, 18 of which were pallbearers. To this day, you can visit a park dedicated in Robert’s honor and see how you size up to the man and his big shoes.
Atlanta, IL (population 1637) is a small Route 66 town half an hour north of Springfield. Its cultural highlights are the Grain Elevator Museum (never been) and the famous Bunyon Giant (visited many times). Originally hailing from Cicero outside of Chicago, the giant is a standard issue muffler man, except the muffler is replaced by a giant hotdog to promote the hot dog stand he stood next to for years. When the restaurant served their last Chicago Red Hot, he packed his bun and condiments and moved to Atlanta, IL. With his hot dog bearing arms outstretched, he was welcomed with open arms by the townspeople, always decorated for Christmas and always the #1 spot for selfies for route 66 travelers. But there he stood for 20 years, the lone giant of Atlanta.
That all changed this Memorial Day weekend, when a harmonic conversion occurred, when a number of fiberglass big things perfectly aligned. No, it wasn’t the dawn of the Age of Aquarius, just the official opening and ribbon cutting for The American Giants Museum.
“The American Giants Museum tells the story of the kitschy and quirky “Muffler Man/Bunyan Giant” statues that sprang up in the 1960s as advertising gimmicks across the USA. Today, they are some of the most popular attractions for tourists traveling Historic Route 66.” —from their website
Not only is the museum a treasure trove of fiberglass artifacts and placards detailing its zany history—it has also helped change the town’s census (for giants that is). The first new inhabitant was the Happy Half Wit installed for the museum’s soft opening a year ago. Often found at amusement parks, he is also known as the Snerd—the weird hillbilly love child of ventriloquist doll Mortimer Snerd and Mad Magazine’s Alfred E Newman—an unflattering caricature of rural America with an overbite and missing teeth.
Next to arrive this Memorial Day weekend for the family reunion was Big Ben. Once towering over Big Ben’s Tire Bar outside of Chicago, he was recently found in a barn where his body was sliced in two and with a missing hand. (Chicago is the former home of Al Capone after all.) Although now supine and convalescing, Big Ben will make a full recovery unlike Capone’s victims and stand proud once again.
The third to arrive for the reunion was a surprise guest—the Gemini Giant of Wilmington. He recently went for a giant jaw dropping $275,000 at auction, the highest amount for a fiberglass statue. (Check out my earlier posts on giants if you haven’t already). Since the sale, he has been laying low in a muffler man witness protection warehouse in Southern Illinois, while having the proper repairs made for him. He will return later to Wilmington this summer, to take his rightful place in a town park dedicated to Route 66.
Like all family events, there is always someone late to the celebration (“Don’t cut the cake before I get there!”) Delayed by logistics and a massive storm, the final giant didn’t arrive until Sunday. The Texaco Big Friend was worth the wait. Back in the 60s, 300 of these “friends” towered over roadside America. But that soon changed when Texaco station operators complained. The Big Friend was hard to maintain and potentially dangerous when he blew over. Being a multi-billion-dollar company, Texaco gave the order to have them all destroyed. And then, the Big Friend was no more. But thanks to a few intrepid employees, several were stealthily taken away at night. Six of them now remain in the US, one of which will be perpetually waving in Atlanta.
As the Memorial Day weekend came to a close, and we returned to our lives and jobs, so did the giants. The Gemini Giant returned to its undisclosed location and Big Ben’s bottom half and top half will be reunited. Still the Happy Half Wit and Big Friend will remain at the Museum, keeping company with the Bunyon Giant across the street. And next to the town’s newest members are four empty concrete platforms, a promise of future giants. Soon, it will be time for the census taker to return to Atlanta.
