Owned by a man known as ‘The Collector,’ the American Treasure Tour Museum is a pop culture spectacle

The most difficult thing the staff at the American Treasure Tour Museum in Oaks, Pa., has to do is explain what the American Treasure Tour Museum is.

“It’s not easy to compile it in one sentence because we’re just all over the place,” director Ross Brakman said.

Located in the same industrial park of endless pavement as the Greater Philadelphia Expo Center, and on the second floor of the building that also houses Arnold’s Family Fun Center, the museum is a 100,000-square-foot private collection of all things American pop culture — from advertisements, animatronics, and automobiles to a 20-foot Gumby, grand Wurlitzer organs, and a gargantuan Walkman.

Owned by a mysterious figure referred to only as “The Collector,” (yes … give me all the intrigue!) the museum has items dating to the 1870s and spans two distinct spaces: The Music Room, which contains one of the country’s largest private collections of automatic music machines (like nickelodeons and band organs), and the Toy Box, a humongous hodgepodge of collectibles and staged scenes awash in the glow of neon signs and experienced through a 40-minute tram car ride.

You may not know that you need to see a stuffed animal tableau of Dogs Playing Poker or a working Chuck E. Cheese animatronic band, but you do.

Along with The Collector’s impressive throng of objects (which is always growing), the museum has become a repository for other people’s collections, too — a home for misfit collectibles, if you will. Some came from people who downsized, but many were donated by people who inherited them from loved ones.

“It’s filling a need for the community because people who spend their lives collecting things that are important to them, when they pass away, their family doesn’t always want to deal with it or know what to do,” Brakman said.

Like the Barnes Foundation, which displays door hinges next to paintings by Monet and Van Gogh, the arrangement of items in the American Treasure Tour is unusual and unexpected.

Why is there a bedazzled shirt hanging between a dirty teddy bear, an empty sack of Kokusai rice, and a wooden cutout of Jerry Garcia? What’s up with the unsettlingly realistic heads of Thomas Edison, Abraham Lincoln, Eleanor Roosevelt, and Douglas Fairbanks placed among shelves of Precious Moments figurines?

Who knows, but by leaning into its quirks, somehow it all works.

“It’s one of those places where there’s nothing heavy about it,” Brakman said. “We certainly acknowledge the outside world, but we’re not about that.”

The Collector’s one guiding principle when buying items for his cabinet of curiosities was that the objects “had to be happy,” said Jerry Frey, cofounder of the American Treasure Tour and a longtime antiques dealer who works closely with The Collector.

“Almost carnival-like was always his direction,” Frey said.

About 20 years ago, The Collector brought Frey and his wife, Ginni, to where he kept his collection, right where it is now, on the second story of a 1.2-million-square-foot building he owns that once housed a Goodrich tire plant.

“He said, ‘I’ve collected all of this and you’ve supplied a lot of it, now you figure out what to do with it so when I’m gone it doesn’t just end up at a big auction,’” Frey said.

The Freys suggested their client open his collection for tours, but it took some convincing.

“He didn’t feel that there would be any interest in it. His comments were always, ‘It’s just the stuff I collected. Why would anybody want to see the junk I put together?’” Frey said.

Eventually, The Collector relented and the American Treasure Tour Museum opened in 2009, but under one condition — that he remain anonymous.

“Part of that is his belief that the collection itself should tell the story but also because he’s just a very private guy, you’ve never seen him on TV,” Brakman said.

As a journalist with certain tools at my disposal, curiosity got the best of me and I figured out who The Collector is. Despite his intriguing nickname, he’s not Benicio Del Toro in Guardians of the Galaxy, Nic Cage in National Treasure, or any other big name you might know.

As a fan of the museum — and because I didn’t unearth any dead bodies while I was there — I’ll honor The Collector’s request for anonymity. Part of the fun of this whole experience is imagining the person behind it anyway. Does he wear a monocle and a fez? Does he do surprise somersaults like Willy Wonka? Does he come to play his organs alone at night, like some kind of Phantom of the Oaks?

“There are people who get absolutely fascinated with the mind of a man who would collect all these wonderful things, so there’s definitely an element of mystery to it too,” Brakman said.

Another reason The Collector wants to retain his anonymity, according to Brakman, is so he can’t easily be tracked down by guests who want to buy an item they see on the tour.

“We’ve had people come in and say, ‘You know, I’ll pay anything for this,’ but it’s not for sale and they just can’t fathom that,” Brakman said.

Every once in a while, The Collector stops in and takes the tour with others, without identifying himself.

“He’s always surprised by how many guests we get and the joy you see in his expression when he sees positive reactions, it really does make it that much more rewarding,” Frey said.

Entering the museum, you get the sense early on that things are about to get very random very quickly. At the lower landing, you’re greeted with a tapestry of Dogs Playing Pool, a painted circus poster of a gorilla you can put your face into for photos, and a cutout rainbow with a pot of gold, a leprechaun, and a Rottweiler stuffed animal at the end of it. Hanging overhead, a crystal chandelier from the Warwick Hotel in Rittenhouse Square really ties the room together.

Once on the second floor, I walked by statues of the Blues Brothers and a giant jack-in-the-box from Kay Bee Toys and into the Music Room, where gorgeous automatic wooden instruments — from giant dance hall organs to a Wurlitzer six-roll changer — were everywhere. One of the devices was playing at all times and I was particularly captivated by the tings, dings, and piano strings of the multi-instrumental “banjo orchestra.”

Porcelain dolls (and sometimes just their heads) were inexplicably displayed on top of the instruments. On the wall, movie posters and records were plastered everywhere, with 45s balanced inside the lips of the beams overhead.

The Music Room also housed sprawling miniature dioramas, hundreds of radios and telephones throughout the decades, and a donated collection of thousands of Raggedy Ann and Andy dolls.

Next, I headed over to the Toy Box for my tram tour, a ride that includes a recorded narration with music, which is supplemented by remarks from the staffers who lead the tours.

Guests are told The Collector began by buying classic cars, which you see many of, and his collection grew from there to include things like circus wagons filled with working automatons; giant papier-mâche heads of Ted Kennedy, Britney Spears, and former President Donald Trump from New Orleans Mardi Gras floats; 900 clown dolls and animatronics; a kid-size castle made of 396,000 Popsicle sticks; and a replica of the Ark of the Covenant from Raiders of the Lost Ark.

Illuminated business signs for everything from Pearle Vision Express to the Audubon Inn are placed throughout the displays, making them feel more like Christmas decorations than advertisements.

There are actual Christmas decorations on the tour too, including an entire portion dedicated to old animatronic holiday displays like the Enchanted Colonial Village from the shuttered Lit Bros. department store in Philadelphia. It’s a fan favorite for locals, as are other Philly-related items like a giant Rudi bear from Wanamakers and a 1930s Philadelphia Toboggan Coasters carriage.

Almost everyone who takes the tour is touched by something they see. For me, it was a Teddy Ruxpin doll, which brought back childhood memories, but for many, the pièce de résistance is the Chuck E. Cheese animatronic band. According to Brakman, when The Collector purchased the band, the animatronics didn’t work and the characters were spread throughout the museum. A 9-year-old boy took the tour, saw the characters, and at age 16, came back and asked if he could restore the band to working condition, which he did.

Kate Prince, 20, has long been obsessed with the Chuck E. Cheese band, so when she saw a TikTok video of it at the American Treasure Tour in April, she came for a visit — and then another, and another.

Last month, Prince started working at the museum (most staffers were fans first). Now, she gets to visit Chuck and his band any time she wants.

“It’s just such a wonderful and exciting place to work because there is always so much going on, so many cool people to interact with, and you get to experience the magic,” Prince said.

Since it’s impossible to see everything on a single visit, many guests make return trips like Guido Martinelli, who brought seven first-time guests with him, including his wife, niece, and siblings. Martinelli, 86, lives in Oaks and previously took the tour for his 50th class reunion.

“It’s the history that’s fascinating and being from the area, we relate to a lot of the things that are here, especially the Lit Bros. Christmas village, it’s good to see that again,” Martinelli said. “It’s amazing, since I’ve been here the last time there’s been so much added.”

Brakman said attendance at the museum is erratic, but social media videos have done wonders to “explain our charms” and inspire people to visit.

“But ultimately, word of mouth is our best friend because the people who come here generally leave happy,” Brakman said. “We’ve had plenty of people come with a group tour and then come back with their family. To me, that’s the best because it had an impact on them and they wanted to share this with somebody.”