Cincinnati – Even for as much of a Denver landmark as the large Dutch Boy Donuts neon sign at the corner of East Colfax Avenue and Monaco Parkway, there comes a time when existence is threatened.
And then what? Traditionally, it would go to a boneyard (an advertising-sign storage yard), to be scavenged for parts and otherwise forgotten. But, since the American Sign Museum opened in Cincinnati in October, there is an alternative. It can go on display with the other Monets, Cezannes and Renoirs of the world of outdoor advertising.
It’s there now, in fact, restoration almost complete. Tod Swormstedt, who founded the museum, has fixed the motor of the windmill portion of the sign so it rotates. He still has to reunite it with the base – where the Os in “Boy” and “Donuts” actually look like yummy golden donuts – and put it out for viewing among his other signs commemorating such alluring, forgotten American businesses as Elmer’s Billiard Hall, Peter & Paul Florists, Chris’ & Pitt’s Bar-B-Q, and more. He plans to spotlight it in a new indoor neon-sign garden when the museum stages a grand-opening celebration on April 28-29.
And in Denver, where the Colorado Historical Society worked with Harry Grass, director of sales and marketing for Gordon Sign to save the Dutch Boy sign, there is relief. Gordon had built and leased the evocative, idiosyncratic sign for the doughnut shop some 45 years ago, and had planned to keep it atop the building in perpetuity after the business closed.
But a Mexican restaurant that moved into the vacant space wanted the sign removed. “The Colorado Historical Society had wanted it saved,” Grass said. “And usually we’ll leave a sign in place because it’s our asset. But the Mexican restaurant had no interest in the doughnut business.”
Actually, there were two windmill signs – the historical society had hoped to keep a smaller one in its own collection, but it was too badly damaged during removal to save.
“The two windmill signs are very rare surviving examples of mechanical neon art. Most such signs were destroyed when cities began regulating against signs that moved, on the basis that they were a traffic hazard,” says Mark Wolfe, Colorado’s deputy state historic preservation officer.
“Signs are ephemeral,” he says. “They advertise a particular business, and as we all know it’s pretty rare for a business to survive under the same name for more than a few years. So historic signs are far more rare than historic buildings.”
At the Cincinnati museum recently, as Swormstedt faces his visitor while conducting a recent tour, the word “satellite” shines across the lenses of his eyeglasses. It’s the reflection of a sign from a demolished Anaheim, Calif., strip mall called Satellite Shopland.
The white incandescent-bulb-lined letters, which spell out the name, circle the 6-foot diameter of a plastic sphere. Eleven metal spikes shoot upward from the base – each marked by a colored light. Sitting high on a steel frame, it’s like a prop from “Robot Monster” or “Plan 9 from Outer Space.” One waits for a tin-foil alien to emerge.
“Obviously, that’s from the Sputnik era,” Swormstedt says. “It was made by a guy in his garage, not a sign company, so it is a work of folk art. And it originally rotated, so I’m having a new rotator made for it. It’s really funky.”
Like that sign, this place – which can be visited with a reservation seven days a week, day or evening – also is a bit on the funky side. That’s especially true when comparing it with Cincinnati’s other new and higher-profile museums, the Zaha Hadid-designed Lois & Richard Rosenthal Center for Contemporary Art and the National Underground Railroad Freedom Center.
While they are in new downtown showpieces, Swormstedt’s site occupies a still-increasing amount of leased space in an aging neighborhood building where The Masters golf tournament’s green jackets once were tailored. (It now primarily houses artist studios.)
Across the street, signs too large for the space – including an old-fashioned McDonald’s sign with space to constantly update the number of burgers sold worldwide – rest in an empty lot.
Despite its locale, the museum is a serious enterprise. Swormstedt’s family owns Cincinnati’s Signs of the Times magazine, which has covered the sign industry since 1906 and gave $1 million to help start the project. A nonprofit corporation, the museum also has received donations from the sign industry.
Its collection has 2,500 objects related to the industry’s history, including about 120 signs. (Some of those signs are in storage elsewhere – about 50 large signs are on display so far.) Swormstedt collects nationwide and works with historical societies and conservationist groups to save endangered signs.
He first investigated Los Angeles as a site because it is a mecca for neon and car-related signage, in partnership with that city’s Museum of Neon Art. But as plans stalled, he recognized a credibility problem with supporters. “I needed to show people I had a museum, which is why we’re here,” he says.
Inside, the space is divided into several themed sections. The highlight is the Sign Gallery, where restored illuminated signs from 1900-1960 are featured. Some are as mysterious as an Edward Hopper painting, such as that neon sign announcing Elmer’s Billiard Hall.
Others are veritable amusement-park rides, like an Earl Scheib car-painting sign salvaged from Compton, Calif., in which a Saturn ring of colored-neon cars encircles a large globe. It is pierced by a bullet hole.
One jewel is a pre-neon Kelly Springfield Tires sign from the early 20th century. The name is spelled out in light bulbs shining through colored glass. It has the delicacy of an Arts and Crafts lamp. It was found abandoned in a California field.
“If I had the lights off except for that sign, it would look fantastic,” Swormstedt says. “You can see why signs became popular – they would really liven up a downtown area.
“Electricity was cheap, and power companies were trying to promote its use. They actually created Sign Weeks so cities could promote their signs. Merchants could sell at night, and an electric sign in a downtown really attracted people.”
Swormstedt hopes a museum dedicated to their history will do the same thing.
Steven Rosen, former film critic for The Denver Post, is a freelance writer in Los Angeles.
The details
To make a reservation to visit the American Sign Museum, call 513-258-4020. A $10 donation per person is requested. For more information, visit
