The Capitol Collection
Here we have the story of the Capitol Collection, a tribute to mania!
Though I was always a fan of geography and knew all my states and capitals, I had never really thought about going to the capitol buildings until I met my then-future husband. Six months after we met, we were to move to Korea (of course), so we decided to take a road trip. My honey wanted to see all the capitols, so we started seeing them.
While in Korea, we made a new friend, and after coming back to the U.S., he would travel with us from time to time. Before he met his girlfriend, we would take a trip a year. Now, he rarely goes anywhere. Curse happy couples!
Anyway, we were on a trip to see the Carolinas (because the debate over tomato-based barbeque vs. mustard-based barbeque had to be answered), and we naturally went to see the capitol in Raleigh. After our visit, our friend said “You know, you should make a passport book for capitols, like the one for the national parks.” We already had that book, for the national parks, and as soon as he said it, I was instantly certain that it was a great idea and that I, yes, I would do it.
Once home from the vacay, the writing and research began. The writing was easy enough. I asked my mother-in-law to design the art for the stamps. The rest of it was MUCH harder. How do you generate the stamps? What about a molded-plastic thing to hold the stamps? What about copyright? How do you sell them? Website! So much work! Then I had a real bear of an issue: I had to call all the capitols and ask them to house the stamps. Sure, the stamps were free, but they would have still have to mind them and make them accessible to the public. Most capitols, upon learning that the stamps were free, said YES. Four said NO. I was mizzy-mazed that anyone would say no, but so it was. The original book, on the page where it listed where the stamps were located, simply said that these states were not participating.
Then came the need to DELIVER the stamps. I love a good road trip, and I needed pictures of each capitol (for the book), and I needed to meet my local liaison, etc., so I drove 16,503 miles to deliver the stamps. Naturally, I did not drive to Alaska or Hawaii.
Driving 16,503 miles …easy, right? No, mine was EXTRA amazing. A lady I knew was going to be donating her car to some charity, and she said I could use it for my trip, since it didn’t matter how many miles it had. I drove from Denver to Atlanta and Tallahassee, the southern route, then I drove to Raleigh and came west along I-40. Then I left again to hit Topeka and Jefferson City. Easy. Then Frankfort, and I’m heading toward Charleston, West Virginia. Before I cross from Kentucky into West Virginia, I get off the interstate to head to a gas station in the hills of northeastern Kentucky.
Get gas. Wash hands. Ready to go!
Car won’t start.
I am NOT a mechanically-minded person, and I instantly ran out of all that I knew to do in order to get the car to start. Eventually, I had a mechanic come. He towed it to his shop, and he spends a lot of time trying to get it to start. No luck.
Eventually, he takes a knife and cuts off a piece of rigid wire in a rubber covering. Bending it into a horseshoe, the wires are exposed at each end, and he hands it to me.
“Awright, here’s whacher gonna do.”
Trying to type in a DEEEEEP southern accent here.
“You jus pop yer hood, and then you gonna reach in here and touch these two points tegether with this here wire thang, and it’ll jumpstartcher car.”
He does it, and the car springs to life.
So, I am NOT mechanically minded. Worse, I break most anything I touch, and I have a full fear that anything mechanical will maim me as soon as I come within range of it. He’s asking me to reach in there, where the engine is entirely made of knives and razors, and jump the engine.
“Won’t that electrocute me?” I ask, tremulously.
“Ah, shoot. That’s just twelve volts. That ain’t enough to tickle a kitten!”
Those are his EXACT words.
I reach in there, touch the two points together. Sparks fly, the engine screams into life, and I scream in hysterical terror, leaping backward. Manly I was not. I don’t know whether he laughed or not, but I was mostly in fear of my life, so I didn’t notice.
Nevertheless, I did it. For the next two weeks, that is exactly what I did, every time I needed to start the car. That is a LOT of starting the car. I, of course, got used to it.
I still have that little horseshoe.
Do you see what fun may lie in 16,503 miles?
Since that time, we have been selling the books.
Eventually, ALL of those capitols contacted me to get the stamps. In two states, the governor actually found out that the stamp was not there and told the folks to call me. One of the conversations went like this:
“Hey, I hear that there’s this stamp program but folks can’t get one here. Why is that?”
“We didn’t get the stamp when he offered it to us.”
“Wow. How much did it cost?”
“It was free. All we had to do was house it.”
Blink blink blink goes the governor.
“OK. Call the guy and get the stamp.”
Whoohoo!
I’ve been doing it since 2006, when the program went live, and I’ve heard lots of great stories. I have gotten opinions on which capitols are the best and the worst. Oddly, the state that comes in most frequently as the last one that people visit (the one folks to leave till the last because they don’t want to go there) is North Dakota. Sad, because North Dakota rocks, but they have so many people waiting to do Bismarck last, that the folks in Bismarck have a “Best for Last Club” there.
I could go on, but that’s a quick explanation of how I started my second business (because one isn’t enough craziness, right?), and how I got to see all the capitols. I DEFINITELY have an opinion on which one is best, which is very subjective, of course. Most people agree on which one is the worst. Odd how common there is consensus in that one. Actually, maybe it’s not odd. See them all, and you’ll understand.
So, as a true capitol connoisseur, that’s my story. Hurrah!
