Turns out, Hitler's typewriter sits at the Hall of History in Bessemer, Alabama.
It formerly lived at the Fürer's alpine retreat in Berchtesgaden - the "Eagle's Nest," they called it.
There, sucking in the crisp morning air, Hitler typed orders that marched armies to their deaths, and built gas chambers in concentration camps.
(Museum visitors have tried to type on it, but there's no typewriter ribbon made today that fits it, thank goodness.)
I can see how that thing found its way here.
Southern Alabama smells like dryer sheets. Cotton grows everywhere - as do Confederate flags.
And that's about all that's here, besides miles of strip malls and those Church Revival signs.
On the left, A reminder we're sinners:
On the right, Adult bookstores.
Think of it as emblem of our baser nature, and the South's still-healing wounds.
They let dogs loose on children here, back in the 1960's - and all they were trying to do was go to elementary school.
I was glad when the rain stopped and we made it to Birmingham.