Sacramento has its share of renowned museums showcasing paintings to railroad cars. But unheralded  collections abound as well and often in nearly hidden locales. Some feature aviation memorabilia, others medical marvels.

There's an iron lung on display in the medical museum on the Elvas Ave. There's a WWII-circa jet cockpit in a midtown photography shop.

Years ago, a Sacramento attorney with a passion for thermometers had hundreds on display in a small rented storage unit on the edge of the city limits. He eventually moved the collection to his home.

And nearly 20 years ago, I visited with a man in River Park whose collecting hobby ranged from a Paul McCartney guitar to race car drivers' suits. Mostly, though, he collected bats used by famous baseball players, Ty Cobb to Barry Bonds. He hung the bats in pool cue racks on the walls of his family room. He was one of the few collectors I've met who encouraged visitors to handle the merchandise.

Richard Bertolucci, who founded Bertolucci Body & Fender Shop, Inc., in 1948, is also among the select group of Sacramento collectors whose wondrous prized items are anything but conspicuous. Bertolucci restores Chevrolets, and a near-dozen examples of his aging, flawless machines are tucked away in a corner room of the enduring 60-year-old business on the corner of 33rd Street & Stockton Blvd.

Until recently, the Bertolucci Museum had rarely been promoted.  It was known only among customers, family friends and occasional curious passersby.

But the family business recently began mentioning the museum in its print advertisements. As such, interest in the free museum has increased, particularly among old car enthusiasts.

Like the objects in other niche museums, the pristine Chevrolets on display in the Bertolucci Museum reflect the owner's passion for craftsmanship and his appreciation for history.

The vehicles (10 cars, 1 truck and one non-Chevrolet motorcycle)  range from a 1957 BelAir convertible to a 1962 Corvette convertible. All of the vehicles were restored by Bertolucci in his home machine shop and then painted in the body shop. They're showcased in a room down the hall from the body and fender repair shop's reception area and near the work garage.
 
The museum is sparsely decorated, but there's a mural of Sacramento businesses of yesteryear and a neon Chevrolet sign. In the back of the room, there's a tall, restored cylinder gas pump surrounded by an array of perhaps 30 trophies arranged on the floor. And against a side wall, there's a street sign reading, "Chevrolet Ave."

The showpiece cars rest on shiny, eat-off-the-floor clean, fake brick flooring.

"That's the way he likes it," says secretary Michele DeFrances, a 23-year employee who wears a constant smile, laughs often and serves as the museum's unofficial docent. "He will come in and see dust and say, "Go clean those cars.' "

A few years ago, a single spotlight with a pink bulb was installed to further embellish the candy apple red Corvette, the car museum visitors ask about the most.

Bertolucci, now in his 70s, doesn't work daily anymore, but he has a disdain for the word retirement. He visits the business often, usually on Tuesday afternoons for employee meetings. He visits with his four daughters, one son and other employees. And he checks in on his Chevys.

There are exceptions to the vehicles' permanent status. In recent years, the museum was one car short when it served as the get-away car in a family wedding. Some of the vehicles have been used in the Shriners' parade, and the trophy collection includes a good share of "Best-of-Show" awards from auto shows and historic races.

But like other car collectors' vehicles, the cars in the Bertolucci Museum are primarily for viewing and rarely for driving.

"It's too bad it's not out on the street," says DeFrances, commenting on the visitor-favorite Corvette but really talking about the entire collection.   

"But they don't leave; They're like his children. They're here all the time. But he will come in and say, 'How are the cars doing?' "