Adults who tour the  American Police Hall of Fame and Museum usually keep some distance between themselves and the anchor of the Capital Punishment wing.

Barry Shepherd, executive director of the Titusville, Fla., museum, said some touch the electric chair’s wooden arms or peer through the little prison bars that surround it.

But rarely does one dare to sit down, place the little leather straps over wrists, fix the faux electrode to the head and ask someone to throw the switch beneath the “Danger: High Voltage” sign.

“There is a certain aura or mystique that goes with the chair,” said Shepherd, who added that kids are not shy about taking a seat in the chair, which is a replica.

A real one, like Nebraska’s, is an important piece of history, he said, and could be quite an attraction.

Some folks in McCook agree.

“If it’s sitting somewhere collecting dust, we have a place for it,” said Duane Tappe, who thinks Nebraska’s most lethal piece of furniture could draw thousands of tourists.

“My wife thinks it’s a little — what’s the word  — macabre,” said Tappe, who’s involved in the city’s Rotary Club and Chamber of Commerce. “But I would drive up the road to see it. I mean, I drove all the way to Cawker City, Kan., to see the (world’s largest) ball of twine.”

Jim Willett, a retired warden and director of the Texas Prison Museum, said the chair that took 361 lives brings visitors from all over to Huntsville, Texas.

“The electric chair is a big draw to our museum,” he said in an e-mail. “A lot of folks who come here do so with the main ambition to see Old Sparky. I guess most people have a fascination with something that conjures up gruesome imaginations but has been something that one cannot view in public at just any corner.”

Shepherd said the chair in Titusville is a big draw, too.

“Ours, yeah it’s a little bit of a hit, mostly with the young kids, because they come in and go, ‘Oh wow, that is cool.’”

But the replica has no history of its own.

Fifteen men, including Charles Starkweather, died in Nebraska’s electric chair over nearly a 91-year period beginning in 1918.

It appears unlikely anyone else will. Last year, the Nebraska Supreme Court ruled the chair unconstitutional, and a bill to switch to lethal injection is in committee at the Legislature.

“I would think that a state historical society that does preservation, naturally they would have to have that,” Shepherd said. “There’s no doubt it has a place.”

Tappe would like that place to be a museum planned to honor the late Sen. George Norris, who was the primary force behind the Rural Electrification Act.

The chair, Tappe told The Associated Press, is “one of the uses for electricity, whether that’s good or bad.”

Department of Correctional Services spokeswoman Connie Nemec said a few people have called about the future of the electric chair, which is still at the Nebraska State Penitentiary.

No decision has been made, she said.

Eleven men are on death row in Nebraska; the state’s last execution was in 1997.

Tappe floated the idea of displaying the chair in McCook to state Sen. Mike Christensen of Imperial.

“You’re going to have people that think this is gross or disgusting, but fact is, it’s been part of Nebraska history, and you’ve got to preserve history,” Christensen told the AP.

Lynne Ireland, deputy director of the Nebraska State Historical Society, agrees.

“We can’t pick and choose,”  she said. “We can’t merely do happy history just because it makes everyone feel good.”

What’s important, she said, is to ensure such “challenging materials” are displayed in a factual manner and not sensationalized.

“It really depends on the purpose of the museum and what its intention is and what its audience is.”

But Jill Francke, state coordinator of Nebraskans Against the Death Penalty, said she thinks Nebraska’s public power history can be told without the electric chair. A display that includes it could come off as a “morbid sideshow attraction,” she said.

If it is displayed, Francke said, she hopes it’s done in a manner respectful of the issues surrounding the chair.

She also said she’d like to see money made off of such a display go to help educate people, help people find jobs, be donated to victim’s families or used in any other way  that might help prevent serious crimes.

Reach Cory Matteson at 473-7438 or cmatteson@journalstar.com. The Associated Press contributed to this story.