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Huntington, Indiana

Saturday I had the distinct pleasure of visiting a site that is unique. Unique is an abused word, and it is rarely true, but in this case, unique is accurate, and it describes the Dan Quayle Museum in Huntington, Indiana. Dan Quayle is the only Vice President to have a museum dedicated to his presidency-although due to financial problems and general lack of interest, the museum broadened its focus to all vice-presidents.

Regardless, I visited the museum, arriving on a pleasant Saturday afternoon during Huntington’s street fair. I forget the name of the festival, but it blocked up many streets downtown, and I had to take a detour around the core of the city in order to find the otherwise unassuming museum.

I was in luck! As it happens, I managed to visit on the day that the museum was half off its regular admission rates, thus limiting my admission expenditure to a whopping $1.50-a bargain by any rate. I don’t think I won the friendship of the sole volunteer in the museum when I declined to sign the guest book-I tend not to want to sign guest books, and she asked me twice.

The museum is divided into two floors: the second floor, and former church hall, is dedicated to Dan Quayle, from birth to, uh… well, roughly now, I guess. It is, in its own way, rather charming. There are pictures of Danny as a kid, his Law Degree (chewed on by the family dog, perpetrator pictured), his various campaigns for elective office, and whatnot.

The first floor has the area designed for all vice-presidents, and they have some form of memorabilia for each vice president. In addition there is an area of the museum set aside for all five native-son vice presidents. Indiana is second only to New York State in number of Vice-Presidents. (I want to say number of vice presidents conceived, but it might only be that they were residents when they were elected.)

After exploring the museum I looked through the small souvenir shop area and picked out a trinket, bought it and asked, “So, does Dan ever stop by?”

“Oh yes,” I was assured. “He’ll be stopping by in September.”

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