Even the National Enquirer was taken aback after the city of Los Angeles designated Daniel Van Meter's Tower of Wooden Pallets a historical landmark.
A photo spread of the Sherman Oaks structure was accompanied by a headline that said, "No kidding! This pile of junk is a historic monument!"
Robert Winter, a former member of the Cultural Heritage Commission, joked later that the 1978 vote might have been influenced by fumes emanating from the pallets, which were discards from a brewery.
"Maybe we were drunk," said Winter, a prominent architectural historian.
Family members, who shared ownership of the property where the 22-foot tower stood and wanted to sell the land to developers, agreed with the Enquirer's appraisal of Van Meter's backyard creation.
But Van Meter, who lived alone, wouldn't budge.
"I have a place where it is quiet, despite the apartments, the noise of the boulevard and the hum and screeches of the rat race on the [San Diego] freeway 200 feet away," he told The Times in 1988.
Van Meter, who claimed that he was related to John Quincy Adams and the Wright brothers, was no stranger to controversy.
In 1942, he and a brother, Baron, were pursued by authorities for failing to register as subversives, as the law then required. The Van Meters were considered dangerous because they allegedly belonged to a group with ties to the pro-Nazi German American Bund.
Baron Van Meter surrendered while wearing a top hat, according to news reports, while Daniel Van Meter donned a 10-gallon hat. Both served time in prison, though their convictions were later reversed. Baron went on to become a noted square-dancer known as Cacti Pete as well as a collector of rare beer cans.
In 1951, Daniel Van Meter came into possession of the pallets that would give him a measure of fame. He saw them stacked outside a Schlitz brewery and offered to take "a few." The brewery dumped five truckloads' worth at his house.
"I had to do something with them," said Van Meter, an artist with a practical side.
Working without a diagram (or permit), he stacked them in concentric circles, creating a cone-like structure with outside walkways. He told the Daily News that the tower was approved by building inspectors, one of whom quipped that he should house a giraffe inside.
A pack rat, Van Meter also filled his backyard with wooden wagons, junked cars, a 1938 bus, an old outhouse, a tur- ret from a battleship and a gasoline pump -- everything including a kitchen sink, it seemed.
