Images by John Hovas and Don Weberg “Growing up, I was bit by the Mopar Muscle bug,” Hovas said. “My first was a 1970 Dodge Super Bee; it was my pride and joy!” Along with the Chrysler signs, he’s had a good time buying unique Road Art, as Mecum calls it, including vintage signs from oil companies, other car companies, farm implement manufacturers, and signs that seem out of place, but aren’t, just by virtue of being vintage or neon. “We’ve had a ball going to Mecum auctions,” Hovas said. “They are some of the best people to work with when buying signs and cars.” One of the most interesting signs he’s acquired is a Dodge dealership neon from the 1930s still in the original shipping crate. They’ve carefully hung it from the wall and kept it in the crate, and it works beautifully. Interestingly, for the sheer number of signs, roughly 1,200 in all, the interior just borders overwhelming, but everything has been so carefully considered in its placement that there is a flow to the décor from no matter which point you look at it. The Barn is laid out inside in a rectangle, but the way spaces are arranged, it feels like a cross, the cupola smack in the intersection, the porticos off to either side. On one side, Hovas keeps his office, and directly opposite is a full- scale professional kitchen with granite, stainless and every modern amenity a chef could want, which shares the wall with a 1950s-style diner complete with soda fountain, booths, stools at the counter, vintage soda machine, full-scale back bar with shelves and a center mirror space of quilted-pattern aluminum with a stainless steel Mopar “M.” Adjacent to this is a luxurious, rustic living room, with a fireplace, big screen, locally sourced rock and more lumber, and delicate, subtly placed copper detailing. In the center, under the cupola, is a fantastic Hemi Hideout logo in tile. Several times a month, Hovas’ group hosts visits from church groups, senior citizens, students, car clubs, galas, fundraisers, corporate and private functions. No matter what the occasion, anyone who visits is usually left slack jawed. “We love to see their expressions when they first come in,” Bill Sietz, a longtime friend of Hovas who has helped with The Barn since the beginning, said. “Sometimes older people will come in and see a sign and remember it from years ago, telling us maybe they had one in their town. It’s a lot of fun.” Here and there are massive murals depicting cartoon situations in which some of the high-powered Mopars are kicking up dust. Bill was the creator behind each of them. His use of colors and scale is astonishing and truly helps to bring the barn to life, lending a unique, almost period-correct advertising element to the already visually frenetic space. In spite of their size, they too compete for attention, and when they gain it, it’s more than impressive. “On their own, they’re pretty big, but it’s funny how when you move something into a space like this, it seems to shrink,” Bill said with a laugh. If there’s one thing The Barn does well, it’s shrink almost everything. The size of The Barn is one thing, but the multitude of visual elements within just boggles the eye. In a way, it’s inspirational, and for the most part, it’s everything all of us dream about in one space. “There’s always room for more,” Hovas said. Indeed, there usually is. MECUM.COM // 111