The 650-pound revolver at the end of the driveway hasn't stopped any trick-or-treaters or even door-to-door salesmen, but maybe the mailbox sticking out of the barrel makes it less scary.

"Some people think I'm a little different, but I like guns, and I like John Wayne," said Bob McCauley, 71, of Fosterburg, Ill.

He made the super-size replica of the "Duke's" commemorative .45-caliber Colt Sixgun 30 years ago, and even took it with him in 1993 when he moved about 500 yards down Seiler Road.

McCauley, a retired farmer, just used his tractor.

The gun is a landmark around town — the Madison County Highway Department calls the area "pistol corner," McCauley said.

"And anybody expecting a delivery, whether it's Lowe's, UPS or FedEx — once they say Seiler Road, they ask them which side of the mailbox they live on," said McCauley's wife, Janice.

McCauley's love of firearms dates to when he was 7, the year his uncle made a .22-caliber rifle for him as a Christmas present.

"I had to memorize Red Ryder's rules before I could have it though," he said.

He became pretty proficient at ridding his parents' farm of pesky starlings and pigeons, for which he was paid a penny apiece.

Decades later, McCauley decided to start making models of firearms — only much bigger. He made a 12-foot-long 30-30 Winchester rifle and a 12-gauge Winchester shotgun that measures 14 feet long.

McCauley, who also worked as a pipefitter, said he used the welding skills he learned on the job for his hobby.

For the pistol, which took 80 hours to make, he used pipe ranging in diameter from two to 14 inches and fashioned the hammer from solid steel. The grip is made of plaster, and the gun is painted white and dark blue. At one time, it had Wayne's likeness painted on the barrel in gold, but that faded with time.

McCauley even poured lead bullets for it. Each one weighed six pounds, but they disappeared when lead prices surged, he said.

That's the worst damage anyone has done to his mailbox, although once a teenager in a four-wheel drive pickup tried to push it over.

"He just tore up his bumper," McCauley said.

He's not aware of anyone being frightened by his mailbox, he said, and in fact, a lot of folks stop to have their picture taken next to it.

"There's nothing really bad about it; I just did it for fun," he said.

Fun is also the word many people use for a mannequin mailbox in St. Charles, 50 miles from McCauley's place. Actually, it's not a full mannequin, just legs wearing a size 6 skirt, heels and mailbox where the upper half should be.

The mailbox belongs to Greg Schmidt and Lori Akins. Schmidt, 56, was inspired to make it after seeing something similar on a trip to Florida 11 years ago.

Akins wouldn't reveal her age or the weight of the mannequin (what woman would?), but she said the mailbox's legs are filled with concrete.

"Let's just say it's a two-person job to lift up that little bitty size 6," Akins said.

Unlike, McCauley's mailbox, the one in St. Charles is on a busy thoroughfare, Muegge Road, and it has been the victim of quite a few pranks over the years.

Sometimes the culprits pull the skirt up over the mailbox or put the mannequin in risque outfits. A few times they've left her naked.

"When you go down there on Sunday morning, and she doesn't have on any clothes, it's kind of embarrassing," Akins said. "People are on their way to church."

Schmidt usually decides what the mannequin wears, Akins said, and he tries to keep it seasonal — a plaid skirt when the school year starts and one with poinsettias on it at Christmas. The clothes have to be thrown away after a while because the sun rots the fabric, she said,

For the most part, Akins said people really seem to like the mailbox.

"When people drop off clothes for her, they leave little love notes inside," she said.