It doesn’t look like much at first. Just a big stack of scrap in Vince Hannemann’s backyard. Only when you get close enough to examine it—and go inside it—do you realize his mother was right. This is a Cathedral of Junk.

You know something is different about this place from the moment you drive up to the unassuming bungalow in South Austin. The house is painted different shades of blue, purple and brown. It has about a dozen tall trophies next to a motorcycle on the roof over the entryway. Off to the right is a path that leads into the backyard. A sign proclaims, “Cathedral Visitors. This is a private house. No set hours to view. Hit gong or call Vince@512-299-7413 for appointment.”

Next to the sign is a cymbal with the notation, “Hit Me Hard For Service.”

The Cathedral itself will hit all your senses hard once you’re in the backyard. It towers above you, about 80 twisting tons of golf clubs, roof vents, tires, car parts, dive gear, surfboards, air conditioning ducts, hair dryers, mirrors, trophies, shoes, hubcaps, bicycles, tools, road and street signs, license plates—more stuff than you could possibly enumerate.

The lights dancing all over you come from dozens of CDs strung up to reflect the sunlight.

Hey, look, over there is a Barney Rubble toy sticking his head out between two metal pipes. Over here are a couple of nude Barbies next to snow skis and a rocket ship. Is that a purple flamingo? I used to have a sled just like that one. So that’s where all my rubber duckies have disappeared to.

Get the idea yet? It’s even more impressive when you walk inside. It’s almost as if you’re defying the laws of physics because this edifice certainly didn’t seem large enough from the outside to have this much space on the inside.

One wall is made of bottles. Another of crutches. See dozens of old telephones, a wishing well, antique televisions. A stairway of tires with concrete-art centers takes you up and inside the Cathedral to a meditat ...

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