The Stories Behind America's Strangest Place Names

Picture this: you're driving down the freeway on a cross-country road trip when you spot a sign in the distance. You squint to read it, and you can't believe your eyes: apparently, the next exit leads to a place called "No Name." Have you found yourself in a sci-fi novel or a creepy horror flick? Nope — you're just in rural Colorado.

"No Name" is far from the weirdest place name in America. Go to Arizona and you'll find a community named "Why." Go to North Carolina and you'll stumble upon "Whynot." And that's only the tip of the iceberg. Did you know that there's a town in Missouri with the peculiar name of "Peculiar"? You've heard of Santa Fe, New Mexico, and Santa Barbara, California — but what about good old Santa Claus, Indiana? 

Want to learn more about the wildest and wackiest place names that the nifty 50 states have to offer? Buckle up, fasten your seatbelt, and get ready for a guided tour through some of the nation's most oddly named cities, towns, and unincorporated areas.

How did the unincorporated community of Ketchuptown, South Carolina, get its name? If you guessed that it's somehow related to the invention of the beloved condiment, or perhaps the Heinz family, you'd be wrong. Its origin story actually has to do with a small country store, according to the South Carolina Picture Project.

The Ketchuptown lore begins with a man named Herbert "Hub" Small, who, in 1927, bought an acre of land from Lewis Gerrald. He built a house for his family on the plot; he also constructed a general store. The surrounding area was largely desolate, so the store was popular with travelers passing through the region. It was also a hit with nearby farming families, who appreciated it as a place where they could gather to "catch up" on local news. Eventually, assembling at the general store each Saturday became a local tradition. Over the years, "Catch-up Town" morphed into "Ketchuptown" — largely because Small's young daughter, Ruth Marie, liked to sketch the letter K. In a letter she wrote for the Horry County Historical Society, an adult Ruth Marie looks back on her childhood there fondly: "The logging business brought many newcomers to the area from Sweden and Finland ... Square dancing was a popular recreational activity for the loggers and the Swedes and Finns were often guests in the Small home on square dance evenings."

The Ketchuptown store is no longer operating — but Ketchuptown still exists, with a grand total of 75 residents.

How did Peculiar get its peculiar name? According to Missouri Life Magazine, it came from a scuffle with the United States Post Office. Edgar Thompson, the town's first postmaster, initially submitted the name "Excelsior" for consideration. However, it was rejected because a town in nearby Atchison County already had that name. Thompson then suggested two other names, both of which were also rejected. Frustrated, the town's representatives asked the U.S. postmaster general if he wanted to choose the name himself. "We don't care what name you give us," they wrote in a letter, "as long as it's sort of peculiar." The postmaster general, having a sense of humor, replied, "My conclusion is that in all the land it would be difficult to imagine a more distinctive, a more peculiar name than Peculiar." The verdict was out: "Peculiar, Missouri" it was.

Eventually, the Peculiar Chamber of Commerce came up with a slogan to boost the town's reputation: "Peculiar, Missouri: Where the Odds are With You." According to Mayor Holly Stark, the slogan has never been made official, but you can find it on merchandise around town.

Truth or Consequences may well be the only town named after a 1940s game show. According to the Sierra County, New Mexico website, this small community originally had a far more normal moniker — "Hot Springs." Everything changed in 1949, when Ralph Edwards, the game show's host, told his staffers that he wanted to celebrate the program's 10th anniversary in a big way.

The staffers brainstormed for a while. Then one of them came up with an unconventional suggestion: "Why not find a town or city somewhere in America that would be willing to change its name to 'Truth or Consequences,' and do the anniversary broadcast from that city?" Edwards was a fan of the idea, and he sent out an announcement. Several towns were interested in participating in the promotion, but Hot Springs stood out most to him due to its "pleasant climate" and "the genuine western hospitality of the people." A producer visited Hot Springs to work out the details with the mayor and Chamber of Commerce. Then, on March 31, 1950, a special election was held, giving the town its current moniker. Edwards conducted the anniversary broadcast the very next day.

Edwards maintained a special relationship with the New Mexico community throughout his lifetime. From the 1950s through the late 1990s, he returned to the city yearly to host a Truth or Consequences "Fiesta" with a host of celebrity guests. Edwards died in 2005, but the townspeople celebrate "Ralph Edwards Day" each April 1.

Not to be confused with "Why" is Whynot, North Carolina. The folks at Southern Living Magazine were curious about the story behind the name, so they reached out to Tammy O'Kelley, executive director of the Heart of North Carolina Visitors Bureau, for answers. According to O'Kelley, it comes from a debate that seemed to go on forever. When the town was established in the 18th century, residents gathered at a community meeting to choose its name — but they just couldn't settle on a name. "Why not name it that? Why not name it this?" various townspeople suggested, for hours on end.

Eventually, a local farmer got frustrated. "Why not name it 'Why Not' and then we can go home?" he called out. Everyone agreed that it was the perfect solution, and "Whynot" was born.

Whynot isn't just famous for its odd name. It's also known for its pottery, which is renowned the world over.

KERA News reports that Texas is full of wacky-sounding cities and towns. The Lone Star State has plenty of oddly named places, including "Bacon," "Beans," "Bigfoot," "Bobo," "Earth," "Happy," "Hoop and Holler," "Noodle," "Oatmeal," "Smiley," and "Zipperlandville" — but the strangest of them all might be "Ding Dong."

"Ding Dong" was founded in the 1930s by nephew-uncle pair Bert and Zulis Bell. When a hired hand was asked to paint a sign for the duo's country store, he took creative license and represented the two men as bells. A neighbor with a sense of humor saw the sign and suggested that the hired hand add the words "Ding Dong" to the sign. Playing along, he painted them on with a smile. Soon, all the locals were calling the surrounding area "Ding Dong." The name is unconventional, but hey — no one could deny that it has a nice ring to it.

The name "Embarrass, Minnesota" doesn't have an embarrassing origin story. According to Slate, it actually has to do with the river that flows through the area. When French priests and fur trappers passed through in the 1700s, they were beset by its treacherous curves, onslaught of driftwood, and, in certain sections, low water levels. The French-Canadian lumberjacks who settled in the area were also frustrated by the river, as they often lost their freshly chopped logs to its rushing rapids. Thus, the French decided to call it "Rivière d'Embarras," which roughly translates to "River of Obstacles" or "River of Obstructions." By the time the 19th century rolled around, its name had become anglicized, and it was known as "Embarrass River."

Around the turn of the 20th century, Finnish immigrants moved into the area. In 1905, they officially organized a township and named it "Embarrass," after its defining body of water.