On The Road Again: The

The Oddporium, Arden, Del.

By RAY BALOGH | The Municipal (All photos courtesy of The Oddporium)

ABOVE: The Oddporium houses hundreds of human and animal skulls and bones. “The human ones are medical,” said co-owner Beth Schuler. “The animals passed away naturally. We love animals.”

LEFT: Ken and Beth Schuler opened The Oddporium in 2015, kick-starting its inventory with items they collected during urban discovery adventures and photographing the demolition of several mental health asylums.

Perhaps no one embraces the peculiar, the bizarre and the curious with as much intriguing fervor and verve for teaching as Ken and Beth Schuler, owners of The Oddporium in Arden, Del.

The two opened the attraction in 2015 in a two-story hand-me-down built in 1909 and owned by Ken’s family for more than a century. The building has been used as a residence and business and at one time housed a barbershop where Ken’s Uncle Frank, who recently passed away at the age of 101, used to cut Joe Biden’s hair.

The walls, shelves and display cases throughout the main floor are packed with odd and sometimes macabre items such as human and animal skulls and skeletons, vintage medical machines and instruments, quack medical memorabilia, funeral-related items, glowing glassware and clocks laced with radium, lamps made from cow femurs, Tesla coils made by Beth, a haunted doll, a levitating music box, New Age merchandise and the preserved carcass of a cycloptic pig named Amelia. The condition occurs once per 16,000 births, according to Ken. Beth’s favorite conversation/educational piece is Lizzy, a human skeleton from the late-1800s that sometimes daunts the younger visitors. But Beth is always there with a Mr. Rogers level of soft reassurance to alleviate any childlike apprehension. “Lizzy helped doctors learn how

A Japanese mourning doll in the museum is purportedly haunted. Its arrival was accompanied by stories of misfortune that befell those who did not treat the doll with respect. One woman suffered detached retinas within an hour of telling the doll, “You’re not haunted.” Another man, while trying to dispose of the doll, suffered broken ribs in a fell. He told the hospital staff and police, “The doll did it.” One of the exhibits features greenware glowing with radium. Atop the case reposes a sheep skeleton. The glassware has all been scanned by Geiger counter to assure its safety.

to fix people,” she tells them. Their fear assuaged, many of the children leave the exhibit with the parting salutation, “Thank you, Lizzy.”

She also assures visitors no animals were harmed to obtain their skeletons or remains. “We love animals,” she said.

The Oddporium operates as a combined museum and store with permanent and for-sale items often interspersed on the shelves. “One of the doctors from the University of Delaware came in and bought a hand-cranked bone drill, because the pneumatic ones would burn bones,” said Beth. “He still uses that one today, and he is the surgeon I would go to.”

Much of the inventory consists of items the Schulers collected through the decades from their urban explorations and their collaborative work as demolition photographers.

“Our photography is usually of asylum buildings, and we negotiate about keeping objects we find on the property,” said Ken. “Sometimes we work that into the payment.” The Oddporium maintains a portfolio of old medical records of mental patients, along with their photos.

They also glean curiosities from their travels and online, and “items come to us from all over from people who bring them here,” Ken said. “We have thousands of items on display and probably hundreds more in storage.”

Many of the mental health, surgical and pharmaceutical conventions of yesteryear evoke a head-shaking condescension from today’s populace, which benefits from centuries of technological advancements. But Ken is scrupulous in exhibiting the full spectrum of prevailing paradigms. “We have to realize that history is not always pretty and beautiful,” he said, advising prospective visitors how to maximize their visit: “Keep an open mind.”

“When I first encountered old postmortem photos, I was appalled,” Beth said, “but now I see that the photos taken when people married or died were valued, because back then, photography was very expensive.”

The building itself carries a history of odd and unexplainable occurrences that perfectly complement the theme of the place. Seven people have died within the house, and investigators have detected paranormal activity within its four walls, once snapping a photo of a spectral figure in one of the rooms.

The Oddporium receives “about 2,500 to 3,000 visitors a year,” including school tours, and hosts birthday parties and weddings in the adjoining garden.

Despite the enterprise’s partial function as a gift shop, education and personal relationships are always front-burner considerations for the Schulers.

“Our job is not to make people buy something,” said Beth. “I just love showing and teaching people whatever I can. I just want them to learn.” She encapsulated The Oddporium’s raison d’etre: “It’s to preserve history. It’s the love of history, the love of the unusual and the hard to find. I love this place.”

The couple also works to foster a community of kindred spirits—the human kind. “We’ve always been a safe spot, a space where people can come and feel comfortable with different interests,” said Ken. “If you’re into Bigfoot, you can come here, and you’re not going to be judged.”

This summer, he said, “We hope to bring back outdoor weekly movies, weather permitting. They will be old horror and sci-fi films, old B movies starting with ‘Plan 9 from Outer Space.’”

The Schulers recently took delivery of their second used hearse, which they plan to use as an exhibit and marketing piece.

The Oddporium is located at 2115 Marsh Road, Arden, and is open from noon to 6 p.m. Friday through Sunday.

For more information, call (302) 757-9544 or (484) 250-2097, or visit www.oddporium.com.