1

Kool-Aid

Image: Aibek Skakov

Nebraska takes pride in its sweetest invention : Kool-Aid. Created in 1927 in Hastings, the fruity drink became a household favorite. In 1998, Nebraska made it the official state soft drink, much to the delight of nostalgia lovers.

Every August, Hastings hosts the Kool-Aid Days Festival, complete with giant pitchers and endless flavors. The "Kool-Aid Man" himself even made an appearance at the declaration ceremony! Despite some pushback from health advocates, the sugary drink remains an iconic American beverage.

2

Gusty the Cartoon

Image: Afif Ramdhasuma

Oklahoma’s state cartoon character is Gusty , a little weather-forecasting doodle, do you know him? Created by a Tulsa weatherman in the 1950s, Gusty reflected the day’s forecast, holding an umbrella, bracing for tornadoes, or sweating in the heat.

His hand-drawn charm lasted for decades, earning him a place in the Smithsonian. In 2005, Oklahoma made Gusty the official state cartoon character. For Oklahomans, he’s as much a part of the forecast as the storm warnings!

3

Whoopie Pie

Image: Holly Spangler

Maine takes its desserts seriously. So seriously that in 2011, the state named the whoopie pie its official treat . This fluffy confection consists of two chocolate cake rounds sandwiching a creamy white filling.

It’s been a local favorite since the 1920s, though Pennsylvania also claims to have invented it. Maine, however, celebrates its whoopie pie heritage with an annual festival featuring the world’s largest whoopie pie. The origins of the name are debated, but regardless, it’s a nostalgic, delicious bite of history. And yes, it pairs perfectly with a cup of coffee!

4

Tully Monster

Image: Jacqueline Martinez

Illinois’ state fossil sounds like something out of a sci-fi movie: the Tully Monster. This strange, ancient sea creature swam in Illinois’ prehistoric waters about 300 million years ago. Discovered in 1958, its worm-like body, stalked eyes, and pincer-like mouth left scientists scratching their heads for decades.

It wasn’t until 2016 that researchers finally identified it as a vertebrate, possibly related to lampreys, a fish. Named after its discoverer, Francis Tully, this oddball fossil became Illinois’ official state fossil in 1989. How weird is that?

5

Clogging

Image: Ahmad Odeh

Forget the square dance, North Carolina’s official folk dance is clogging , and it’s as energetic as it sounds. This fast-paced footwork evolved from Appalachian traditions and is often performed to bluegrass music.

Clog dancers wear special shoes with taps to create a percussive beat while they move. The style has roots in Irish, English, and African dance, blending cultures into a wonderful American tradition. If you ever visit a North Carolina festival, you’ll likely see folks kicking up their heels to some lively fiddle tunes.

6

Brewer’s Yeast

Image: National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases

Oregon took a microscopic approach to state symbols when it named brewer’s yeast its official microbe in 2013. This tiny fungus, scientifically called Saccharomyces cerevisiae , is the secret behind beer and bread. You like it now, huh?

It ferments sugars, producing alcohol and carbon dioxide, making it essential to Oregon’s craft beer scene. The decision wasn’t just for fun; it’s also that beer contributes billions to the state’s economy. Just to follow the trend, Illinois later named a mold used in penicillin production as its own state microbe. Apparently, microbes deserve their moment in the spotlight, too!

7

Jousting

Image: Casper Johansson

In a move straight out of the Middle Ages, Maryland named jousting its official state sport in 1962. Yes, that jousting you’re thinking of, knights on horseback charging at each other with lances.

While modern jousting is more about precision than knocking opponents off their steeds, it still draws a crowd. Today’s version involves riders aiming to spear small rings while galloping at full speed. Don’t worry, in 2004, lacrosse also became the state’s official team sport, but jousting still holds its title.

8

The Teddy Bear

Image: Izabelly Marques

Mississippi’s official state toy, the teddy bear, has an adorable backstory. It all began in 1902 when President Theodore Roosevelt refused to shoot a bear during a hunting trip. A political cartoon about the event went viral (for its time), inspiring a Brooklyn couple to create "Teddy’s Bear."

The stuffed animal became a national sensation, and the name stuck. A century later, Mississippi made it official, naming the teddy bear its state toy in 2002. It’s a rare example of a state symbol with a direct presidential connection. But cute anyways!

9

Milk

Image: Anita Jankovic

Believe it or not, 22 states claim milk as their official beverage . But it has nothing to do with keeping the bones strong! This dairy dominance started in the 1980s when milk industry lobbyists pushed for recognition.

While it’s a wholesome, calcium-packed choice, it’s not the most exciting. Some states, like Rhode Island (coffee milk) and Alabama (whiskey), took a more unique approach to the state beverage. Now, whether you drink it or not, milk has certainly made its mark on state symbols. And hey, at least it pairs well with cookies!

10

Natchitoches Meat Pie

Image: Patryk Pastewski

When you think of Louisiana cuisine, you probably think of gumbo or jambalaya, but did you know the state also has an official meat pie ? The Natchitoches meat pie is a deep-fried delight filled with seasoned pork and beef.

It dates back to the late 1700s, and it was named after the local Natchitoches Indian tribe. Declared a state symbol in 2003, it’s celebrated every September at the Natchitoches Meat Pie Festival. The festival features music, cooking competitions, and, of course, a meat pie eating contest!

1

The original plan included full-body figures

Image: Thomas Shockey

Mount Rushmore was supposed to be even more colossal than it already is. Sculptor Gutzon Borglum envisioned the four presidents carved from the waist up .

He even made plaster models showing Abraham Lincoln's coat folds and Teddy Roosevelt’s hand clutching his lapel. But as costs went up, Congress said: "heads only, please."

2

Charles Rushmore was just a curious New Yorker

Image: Maarten van den Heuvel

Back in 1925, when the mount was about to be carved into a monument, Charles Rushmore wrote a letter explaining why the peak bore his name. He recalled that in the 1880s he was a young New Yorker working in the area, and fell fond of that particular granite peak .

When he asked the locals about it, they informed him that it had no name, but that if he wished so, they would just start calling it Rushmore Peak, or Mount Rushmore, or the likes. Years later, that very name had been inscribed in the public domain to designate the peak.

3

Yes, there’s a hidden room behind Lincoln’s head

Image: Laura Nyhuis

Behind Abraham Lincoln’s hairline lies a hidden chamber, part of Borglum’s lofty idea for a "Hall of Records." This room was meant to house foundational American documents like the Constitution or the Declaration of Independence.

Instead of that, in 1998, a titanium box was placed inside, filled with copies of important documents and biographies, as a time capsule to preserve the treasure of knowledge for future generations.

4

Thomas Jefferson was moved

Image: Dave Baraloto

Jefferson was originally supposed to go to Washington’s right, but after 18 months of chiseling , the granite betrayed them. Cracks and flaws made the site unworkable.

Borglum made the painful decision to blast Jefferson’s half-formed face clean off and start anew on Washington’s left.

5

The mountain was almost a monument to western heroes

Image: Timberly Hawkins

Before presidents took over, the mountain was pitched as a giant tribute to the Wild West . South Dakota historian Doane Robinson wanted to see frontier legends like Lewis & Clark carved into the Black Hills.

But when Borglum came aboard, he had a grander (and more politically bankable) idea: four presidents to symbolize national unity and expansion.

6

A woman’s face was almost added

Image: Tom Fournier

In the 1930s, there was serious talk of honoring Susan B. Anthony alongside the Founding Fathers, as a nod to the women’s suffrage movement.

Borglum wasn’t opposed to the idea, but Congress quickly nixed it, stating that only U.S. presidents could be included.

7

The workers were mostly local miners and loggers

Image: Pixabay

They were neither sculptors nor artists. Most of the workforce came from nearby Keystone, South Dakota: miners, loggers, and hard-up laborers looking for work during the Great Depression.

Borglum trained them himself. There were no safety harnesses, and yet, remarkably, no one died on the job.

8

Dynamite did 90% of the work

Image: Alexander Paramonov

To carve the faces of Washington, Jefferson, Roosevelt, and Lincoln, workers used carefully timed dynamite blasts to remove over 450,000 tons of rock. They got so precise, they could blast within inches of where the final surface would be.

The last details, like wrinkles, pupils, or Roosevelt’s glasses, were done with jackhammers and chisels.

9

The noses are disproportionate

Image: Dudubangbang Travel

Standing in front of the mountain, the faces seem alright. But that’s a trick of perspective. Each presidential nose is a whopping 20 feet long .

If the sculptures had included full bodies as planned, each figure would have stood 465 feet tall. That’s taller than the Statue of Liberty and most downtown skyscrapers.

10

Teddy Roosevelt was the most controversial pick

Image: Dudubangbang Travel

Washington, of course. Jefferson, made sense. Lincoln, sure. And Teddy? Some critics raised their eyebrows at Borglum’s fourth choice. Roosevelt had only recently passed away in 1919, and many questioned whether he'd stood the test of time.

But Borglum defended the decision Roosevelt’s role in breaking up monopolies, conserving national parks, and engineering the Panama Canal. Plus, Borglum had met him personally and was a fan.

11

It was supposed to have inscriptions

Image: Dan Pick

Borglum had grander plans than just four giant heads. He wanted to carve a massive inscription next to them, a timeline of America’s most important milestones , chiseled straight into the mountain. In time, the idea was scrapped for practical and aesthetic reasons.

12

The visionary died before completion

Image: Lisa Reichenstein

Gutzon Borglum, the visionary behind it all, didn’t live to see his masterpiece finished. He died in March 1941, just as the construction was reaching its end. His son, Lincoln Borglum (yes, named after that Lincoln), took over the project.

Still, with WWII drawing resources elsewhere, funding was slashed, and Lincoln had to wrap things up quickly . Some features, like Lincoln’s ear, were never fully detailed.

1

Home economics class

Home economics as a school subject peaked in the mid-20th century, teaching sewing, cooking, and budgeting —often aimed at girls.

By the 2000s, however, many states had folded it into a broader "family and consumer sciences" category, as shifting gender roles and changing cultural habits made the old curriculum feel increasingly outdated.

2

Woodshop in every school

Lightly supervised children with access to power tools? Today, it seems hard to believe, but woodshop was a standard industrial arts course throughout the 1950s–1980s.

Declines began in the 1990s due to higher liability insurance costs, budget cuts, and a growing emphasis on college-prep academics over practical skills. Some schools still maintain limited woodworking programs, often using them as hands-on, integrated learning tools.

3

The dodgeball era

Dodgeball dominated physical education classes well into the 1990s, often using hard rubber balls that were notorious for causing stingers, bruises, and occasional injuries . The game was popular because it required little equipment, could fill an entire class period, and kept large groups of students active.

By the 2000s, however, concerns about safety and bullying led many districts to restrict or replace dodgeball with more structured team sports. Some schools still play modified versions, usually with soft foam balls and strict rules.

4

Chalkboard dusting

For over a century, green and black chalkboards were the centerpiece of American classrooms, with students regularly assigned to "clap out" erasers outside to clear the built-up dust. Chalk was cheap, durable, and easy for teachers to use in large rooms.

By the 1990s, districts began replacing chalkboards with whiteboards due to dust concerns linked to asthma and indoor air quality. The shift accelerated as overhead projectors, digital displays, and interactive whiteboards provided cleaner surfaces and reduced inhalation hazards.

5

Daily milk breaks

Mid-morning milk breaks became common in American elementary schools after the USDA expanded dairy subsidies through programs like the Special Milk Program in 1954. For decades, students lined up for small cartons—usually whole milk—intended to boost childhood nutrition and support U.S. dairy producers during periods of surplus.

By the 1990s and 2000s, milk breaks declined as updated nutrition guidelines shifted schools toward broader meal programs rather than standalone milk service.

6

In-school smoking lounges

The idea of teens openly smoking on school grounds would be almost unimaginable under today’s health and liability standards. But through the 1960s and into the early 1980s, many American high schools—especially in the Midwest and Northeast—maintained designated smoking areas for students.

The practice disappeared quickly as federal and state regulations tightened, beginning with widespread adoption of indoor smoking bans in the late 1980s and early 1990s. The 1994 Surgeon General’s report and anti-tobacco campaigns further pushed districts to eliminate student smoking sections altogether.

7

Daily cursive drills

For most of the 20th century, daily cursive drills were a nonnegotiable part of American schooling , often reinforced by specific handwriting manuals. Teachers devoted significant class time to perfecting loops, slants, and connected strokes, because cursive was considered essential for legibility, speed, and personal discipline.

The decline accelerated after the rollout of the Common Core State Standards in 2010, which omitted cursive entirely in favor of keyboarding and digital literacy benchmarks. With shrinking instructional time, cursive was often one of the first skills removed from early-grade schedules.

8

Class pet enclosures

From the 1960s through the 1990s, class pets—hamsters, guinea pigs, turtles, goldfish, and even the occasional lizard—were staples of American elementary classrooms. Teachers used them to teach responsibility, empathy, and basic biology , and many classes created rotating "pet helper" charts for feeding and tank cleaning.

Today, the idea of a live animal in a crowded classroom, handled daily by students, feels out of step with modern safety, allergy, and sanitation standards. Maintenance costs, humane-treatment rules, and the challenge of caring for animals during breaks led schools to retire these longtime classroom mascots.

9

Student hall monitors

For much of the mid-20th century, student hall monitors were a fixture in American schools. Selected students—often upper-grade or high-performing—wore badges or sashes and were tasked with checking hall passes, reporting loitering, and keeping noise down between classes.

By the 1990s, the role faded as schools adopted professional security staff, stricter attendance protocols, and legal liability rules that made peer enforcement impractical. As districts invested in cameras, campus supervisors, and centralized discipline systems, the traditional hall monitor quietly disappeared from most American schools.

10

Morning physical calisthenics

From the 1950s through the early 1970s, influenced by Cold War fitness campaigns, many American schools began the day with school-wide calisthenics —jumping jacks, toe touches, and arm circles—led over the PA system.

The practice faded as schedules tightened and PE moved into dedicated class periods, with research favoring structured fitness over brief daily routines. Today, the idea of entire schools performing synchronized drills feels almost militaristic.