Edwards' "local color personality" and "labor of love" have created the Pig-Hip Restaurant Museum: Ernie Edwards loves tall tales. Ask him how he named his restaurant, a world-renowned Route 66 legend called The Pig-Hip in Broadwell. He won't blink before explaining that the hip in question refers to the swine's left leg, which produces a better cut of pork: 'The hog raises its right leg to scratch, and that makes it tough.' Or, question him about the old wagon in front of his eatery -- one he'd gladly sell you, for a price. 'They made that wagon special to take Abe Lincoln's casket off the funeral train,' he says, not ashamed of himself at all. No, a pig doesn't have a favorite scratching hoof. And the wagon wasn't built until long after Lincoln went to his final resting place. But Ernie is serious about one thing: Getting his kicks on Route 66. He made a living and raised a family off the old historic road, enjoying himself all the while. 'I've had a lot of fun,' he likes to say, like a mantra. But even in his 88th year, he's not done having fun. Ernie is turning that old, shuttered Pig-Hip into a new museum -- not to make a buck, but to leave a legacy. 'I'm not going to be around long,' he says off-handedly, without self-pity. But the notion seems ludicrous. It's almost unthinkable that Broadwell (pop.


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