Nude Statues in Gratz Park

The fountain (which hasn't been running the last few times I've gone by it) in Lexington's Gratz Park features these two semi-nude figures frolicking eternally in bronze.


Given the modern-day prudism regarding the human body in public art - consider John Ashcroft's covering the bare-breasted Spirit of Justice statue, Virginia Attorney General Ken Cuccinelli censoring his own state's seal, and Republican delegate Robert Hurt's mission to censor all nude art in Washington D.C. - it's surprising that some squeamish sorts haven't already crocheted some clothes for these skyclad splashers.




The fountain and statuary were donated to the city of Lexington by the great novelist James Lane Allen, a graduate of Transylvania University. Allen was part of the growing "Local Color" movement in literature in the late 19th century. Rather than writing in a generalized setting and style that everyone could easiy relate to, the "Local Color" or "Regionalist" writers sought to use their stories to document the dialect, the people, and notable places in a specific locale. (Another Kentucky example: Annie Fellows Johnston's Little Colonel series of books.)

Atlantis Fountain

Across the street from the Shelby County Courthouse - not far from the Shelbyville Time Capsule - stands this highly peculiar figural fountain. It features a reclining woman lounging with a mythological beast: a bat-winged lion that is either missing its lower half or is seemingly emerging from an opening. To make matters even more puzzling, the bat wings seem applied upside-down to the lion's sides.


There's a plaque nearby that reads: "This fountain was purchased jointly in 1895 by city and county from J. L. Mott Iron Works, New York. It was erected at intersection of Fifth and Main Sts. upon the completion of Shelbyville's first public water works. Moved in 1914 to public square to clear the street after construction of new courthouse. Figure chosen for top of fountain is 'Atlantis' pattern."


But... but... what's so "Atlantis" about spitting goat heads? (Insert "Goat's Head Soup" reference right about here)

And what's so Atlantean about a bat-winged lion? According to Plato, the temple in the center of the lost continent of Atlantis was dominated by a statue of Poseidon driving six winged horses, but horses ain't lions and the wings of Pegasus were birdy, not batty.

Since a complicated occult mythology was built up around the idea of Atlantis by Kentuckians such as the psychic Edgar Cayce and the uber-huckster Editha Salomon (aka "Laura Horos", aka "Anna Sprengel", aka "Ann O'Delia Dis Debar"), I'm curious if they ever saw the statue, and what they thought of it. Did they find it inspiring, or were they as kerfuffled as I?

Reward Offered for Colonel's Head

The stakes have been raised in search for the stolen bronze bust of Colonel Sanders, recently stolen from a KFC in Berea. The management have decided to post a reward - $500 worth of free chicken - for the man or woman who brings them the head of Harland Sanders. (How much for Alfredo Garcia's?)

Far be it from me to carp, but a mere 500 bucks worth of food seems like a rather chintzy reward. I mean, the head's worth way more than 500 bucks cash, but 500 bucks chicken? Me, in this economy, were I some sort of Boba Fett-like bounty hunter sent out on a mission to retrieve the stolen idol by any means necessary, I'd say keep your fried birds, Clyde, give me shekels, folding green, mazuma, dead presidents, filthy lucre, do re mi, money.

(Graphic filched from The Consumerist).

Dinosaurs Alive!

Though I still prefer the old-school simplicity of Cave City's Dinosaur World, I'm looking forward to "Dinosaurs Alive!", the Louisville Zoo's forthcoming exhibit of high-tech animatronic prehistoric beasties.

(But will Kentucky's sizable Creationism contingent get their Archaeopteryx feathers ruffled by it? Read my article about it on Louisville Mojo!)

"Truth and Justice" Statue

"Truth & Justice", a statue by Kentucky sculptor Barney Bright, will soon be on permanent display in a new outdoor space near the Miller Information Technology Center in Louisville. Broken Sidewalk is reporting that the statue has been restored by Barney's son Jeb, and has been in storage at his Butchertown foundry.

PETA's "Crippled Chicken" Statue

Those anti-carnivore extremists PETA - who criticized President Obama for swatting a fly this year - are launching yet another volley in their neverending campaign against the Louisville-based Kentucky Fried Chicken chain. They've applied for a permit to erect a statue of a cartoon chicken covered in blood and walking on crutches, bearing the words "KFC Cripples Chickens".

Read more about it on my Louisville Mojo column!

Hillcrest Victorian Mannequins

This goodly group of rather Victorian-looking mannequins are on display in someone's upstairs veranda window on Louisville's Hillcrest Avenue - yes, that Hillcrest Avenue, the one known for its over-the-top Halloween yard displays.

The Testicles of Black Bess

John Hunt Morgan (he of the Hunt-Morgan House) is honored for his Civil War service with an ostentatious statue in downtown Lexington (Which is rather odd, since he fought for the Confederacy). Created by Italian sculptor Pompeo Coppini, it depicts the General atop his beloved horse, Black Bess.

As you might surmise from her name, Black Bess was female. Yet Coppini, for reasons opaque to me, declared that it would be more heroic if Morgan was astride a stallion instead of a mare - and so took the extreme artistic license of giving Black Bess prominent testicles.

James Loewen, in his book Lies Across America, wrote about the quaint tradition among UK frat-boys to paint Black Bess' testicles blue and white, and relayed an old, clunkily-written anonymous poem passed along as local folklore:

So darkness comes to Bluegrass men —
Like darkness o'er them falls —
For well we know gentlemen should show
Respect for a lady's balls.

Black Bess was probably named after the English highwayman Dick Turpin's horse, even though some say that Black Bess was strictly fictional, invented for William Harrison Ainsworth's novel 1834 Rookwood and pulp fiction like Black Bess or the Knight of the Road, published in 254 weekly installments beginning in 1867.

Morris Deli's Indian

This old wooden cigar store indian lives by the ice machine out in front of Morris Deli, near the intersection of Bardstown Road and Taylorsville Road in Louisville.

Mark's Pig

It's another sighting of one of those black-and-white concrete pigs, identical to the ones spotted at Joe's Older Than Dirt Diner in Lyndon and Ole Hickory Pit Barbecue. Somewhere, there must be something like "Crazy Clyde's Barbecue Restaurant Supply, Inc." that all these places are getting their pigs from.

Georgetown's Lady Justice Statue

She's perched up so high that one can barely see her, but thanks to the power of the camera's zoom lens, we can get a good look at the Lady Justice statue that looks down from Georgetown's courthouse. Looks like the elements have blown away part of her scales?


The ancient Roman figure of Lady Justice, or Justitia, was originally never rendered blindfolded. This was a peculiar practice that didn't begin until centuries later - the 15th century, to be precise.

Over the years, many people raised the logical concern that a blindfolded Justice appeared to have the wrong symbolism; although it was meant to show impartiality, it also seemed to suggest that she was no longer capable of meting Justice if she can't see a thing.

For a time, she was depicted as having two faces, which was even worse symbolism: do we really want people to think of Justice as "two-faced"? Fortunately, the current trend is to depict her as she originally was meant to be, unencumbered.

Stringbean's Hidden Treasure

David "Stringbean" Akeman, star of the Grand Ole Opry and Hee-Haw, was born in Annville, KY (also the birthplace of world champion fiddler Freddie Langdon) in 1916. Although he began his musical career as a banjoist at the age of 12, joined old-timey legend Asa Martin's band, and performed solo on radio stations such as WLAP in Lexington in the 1930s, it wasn't until the late 1940s when he really came into his own as a country music superstar.

That's when he struck up friendships with Grandpa Jones and Uncle Dave Macon, and became a regular on the Grand Ole Opry. A recording contract with Starday Records soon followed, and hit records such as "Chewing Gum". This, in turn, led to his stint on the hugely successful Hee-Haw television show, where he performed his old-timey tunes for a new generation of appreciative ears. He also had a running gag playing a scarecrow with a crow squawking on his shoulder, and did a regular routine called "Stringbean's Letters from Home" wherein he'd read mail (ostensibly) from the folks back in Annville.


Like many who grew up during the Great Depression, Stringbean had a great distrust of banks, and walked around with several thousand dollars on his person, in the front zip-pouch of his ubiquitous overalls (The overalls, by the way, were not a pose or a affectation - that's what he wore pretty much 24-7, onstage and off). It was well known around Nashville that String had his life's savings stashed away somewhere at home.

Some writers have hinted broadly that certain Hee-Haw cast members may or may not have been indirectly responsible for Stringbean's murder because of their blabbing about his money to others; but the fact is, Stringbean himself made it no secret, and often flashed the fist-sized wad of bills. Not out of ostentatiousness or bragging, but perhaps merely out of an innocent naivete about the evil and corrupt nature of his fellow man.

On November 10, 1973, John A. Brown and Marvin Douglas Brown conspired to follow Stringbean to his home as he left the Ryman Auditorium, for the purpose of taking his life's savings at gunpoint. Just as with the Kansas robbery-turned-murder case popularized in Truman Capote's In Cold Blood, the men failed to find any money in their home invasion, and out of frustration and confusion, ended up killing Stringbean and his wife Estelle for no good reason.


But the question then remained: what did happen to Stringbean's money?

It wasn't in the cookie jar, the medicine cabinet, under the mattress, pressed inside the family Bible, nor stashed in a sock drawer. The murderers had plenty of time to tear the place apart looking for it, but they found nothing. All they got away with was a saw and some of String's gun collection.

For years, fortune-seekers and treasure hunters risked arrest to trespass on the property, armed with metal detectors. They were certain that String had followed the longstanding southern tradition of burying his riches in tightly sealed mason jars somewhere in the yard, surrounding acres, or nearby wilderness. The money has to be here, they all thought, it simply has to be. Where else could it have gone? The house itself had seemingly been thoroughly ransacked, first by the burglars, then by everybody and their brother.

And they found..... nothing.

Had String been fibbing about his wealth? Had he actually secured a secret bank account, and used the "home under the mattress" story as dazzle camoflage to throw snoopers off the track?

23 years later, in 1996, the mystery was solved. Stringbean's lost treasure was accidentally discovered by a man who had moved into the house. A removable brick near the chimney revealed a hiding place in which over $20,000 in cash was found stashed, but the bills were decayed and partially eaten by rats. According to Wikipedia, $20,000 in 1973 was roughly equivalent to $98,565 today. Given String's income and his spartan, no-big-spending lifestyle, it's entirely possible that twice that amount could have originally been stashed, but ended up completely destroyed and lining some rat's nest.


Nowadays, the Stringbean Festival is held every year in Annville to pay tribute to the man. I was fortunate enough to have attended the inaugural event, which featured appearances by Grandpa Jones, Ramona Jones and Porter Wagoner, plus an early appearance by one of my favorite local combos, The Moron Brothers. The black Stringbean t-shirt I got there was my lucky fishin' shirt for years when I used to live in Berea and cast my line out at Owsley Fork.

The site for the Stringbean Festival consistently spells his name as "Akemon", but his own grave spells it "Akeman".

Hear some Stringbean mp3s by clicking here.

Classic Pair of Cave Hill Statues

More from Cave Hill Cemetery's inexhaustible supply of interesting graves. This pair in particular, I think, rather exemplifies the statues there, as it contains two of the more common recurring motifs: doves being released from someone's hands, and women standing with arms open and palms up.

The Sleepwalker

Another example of Cave Hill Cemetery's seemingly endless supply of fascinating grave statuary.

I've always called this one "The Sleepwalker" because of its peculiar pose, with arms outstretched stiffly straight ahead, just like sleepwalkers and zombies do in 1,001 old B-movies.

Dinosaur World

This Cave City attraction consists of a large wooded area in which someone has placed dinosaur statues of various sizes.

And that’s it. They don’t talk, they don’t move, they don’t light up or explode, lasers don’t project futuristic light shows on their abdomens, and you can’t ride them.

I have to admire the old-fashioned simplicity of such an attraction, and in this modern age where attention spans are dulled by video games and the Internet, I wish there were more places like Dinosaur World. For some of us, just gawking at a fiberglass allosaur is vacation enough.

Joe's One-Antlered Moose

I have yet to actually eat at Joe's "Older Than Dirt" Diner in Lyndon, KY, but I often drive by it and marvel at its decorative moose in the yard with only half a rack.


Bonus: in addition to Thidwick the lopsided moose, Joe's diner also comes with two pigs in the yard. The astute UnK reader will note that they are identical to the pig that stands sentry out in front of Ole Hickory Pit Barbecue House.

Somewhere there must be some kinda "Roadhouse Restaurant Supply" store where people are getting these pigs. Or, perhaps more likely, as BBQ joints come and go, the same concrete critters get traded around, auctioned off, lent out, etc.... just like the Pigs of Vernon Lanes.

Nude Statues with Doves

This visually stunning statue of a nude male (many people assume it's a female without getting up-close to it) releasing a pair of doves can be found in the Cave Hill Cemetery in Louisville.

Interestingly, a duplicate of it has been on display at Atchison's Monument Company in Lexington for many years now. Presumably, this is where the Louisville one came from.

Angel Warrior Statues

This disquieting pair of statues, seemingly depicting a pair of teens transformed into sword-wielding winged angels, can be found in Louisville's Cave Hill Cemetery.

The Metal Man of Clayvillage

This fun folk-art metal ductwork robot can be found greeting passersby along Highway 60 in Clayvillage, KY. Ferrell's Air Conditioning and Heating, which operates in a nice old historic schoolhouse, constructed him to decorate their lawn.

Saundra Curry Twist

Saundra Curry Twist's grave in Louisville's Cave Hill Cemetery has probably the most eye-catching of all the many beautiful statues there. Twist, a professional fashion model, was killed in an automobile accident in 1981, and her grave marker depicts her larger than life, with arms outstretched and a marble colonnade behind her. The inscription at her feet reads "God Always Seems to Pick his Prettiest Flower".

In 2000, Saundra's daughter Tonjua Twist committed suicide in her apartment in Marina Del Rey, California. Tonjua was a Hollywood fashion stylist who worked with many stars such as Cindy Crawford and Michael Jackson. The still-current trend of low-cut jeans was single-handedly started by Tonjua when she removed the waistband from a pair of Mariah Carey's jeans for a photo shoot in 1999. According to US Weekly, Tonjua swallowed more than 70 tranqulizers, antidepressants and sleeping pills.