The museum in Bonners Ferry is worth the $2 it takes to visit. It’s not so much a museum as a hodgepodge collection of local antiques and not-so-antique objects, much what you might expect to find at a combination antique/pawn shop, if such a thing were to exist. It’s filled with creepy dolls dressed up as various former village characters, but there is no coherent town story told. Dr. Day, together with the silver dollar he kept in his pocket from the day he arrived in Bonners Ferry until the day he died, for example, stands at attention in a makeshift office with rusty medical equipment.
My favorite room has an old one-handed pump car as you enter. When you turn around, you are greeted with an entire wall filled with portraits of historical figures tied to the area in some haphazard way. 
They are mostly old white men, but I counted one portrait of an old white couple, one white woman, two chieftains of the Kootenai tribe (perhaps to commemorate their defeat or other unfortunate abuse at the hands of the old white men?), and one Kootenai woman, whose claims to portraiture appear to be that she married a white man and was the daughter of a chieftain, probably in that order. I was unsurprised by all the old white faces until I realized that the painting technique looked suspiciously the same, and, indeed, these are all modern renditions painted by the same enterprising artist, a woman named Bette Myers. Apparently enclaves still exist in which the historical role played by women is steadfastly ignored, even by women.
I assumed that Bette (who is now deceased) was a religious woman, because sandwiched in between all those old white men is, you guessed it, a white Jesus.
If you Google her, you’ll find that the domain truefaceofjesus.com is devoted to her work, and you can read all about her encounter with White Jesus, whom she apparently painted a decade after her life-after-death experience.
Considering I saw this sign in a previous room, I really shouldn’t have been surprised.
Continuing in this amazing portrait hall, you are greeted with an impressive display of woodworking. One denizen of the town, apparently as religious as Bette, mastered the scroll saw after he retired, and crafted beautiful clocks that he gifted to the museum upon his death.
On the last wall of the room are handcrafted wooden toys, also gifted to the museum after the maker passed. I thought for a minute the woodworker must have had no living family, to have left such amazing toys to a museum, where they will never again be enjoyed by a child (or an adult like me) but in fact they had been gifted by his family, not him. I suppose because he made toys to commemorate the past industries of Bonners Ferry, but I can’t help thinking that’s no excuse.
On the way out, I noted that Bonners Ferry also has a talented knapper; the display didn’t say if said knapper was living or dead.