Vacation Fun 4: I Finally Go to Hell

Friday, we came home. Looking at our itinerary, we sought some place to visit briefly that would match our excursion into moth man territory. 

"What way should we take home?" I asked.

"Lets go to Hell," Joy said sweetly. 

By Hell,  she meant  Hell, Michigan.  It's a little town on the map,  south of Pinckney and west of Ann Arbor.  I saw it on the map a couple of years ago,  and looked it up on the internet.  Then I wrote a blog about it called "A Trip to Hell" '

Why not?  It was only ten minutes out of the way.  Besides,  so many people over the years have suggested that I go there, I figured it was time to pay Hell a visit, so we could claim to have been "to Hell and back." 

Hell is located on Darwin Road--no joke, it actually is.  The road to Hell is clearly marked and is paved with asphalt, not intentions.  Hell is tiny. There are really only three buildings there--a  cheesy little store  called Hell in a  Handbasket,  Screams Ice Cream parlor, and a restaurant overlooking an artificial lake called the Dam Site Inn.  There is also a wedding chapel, called the Church of Hell. The theory is that if a marriage begins in Hell, it is bound to get better.  There was Hell's playground for the kiddies.  The lake has a dam,  which I guess contained the floodgates of Hell.   There was a camping area,  where a hearse festival was held once a year, I think on Halloween.  There is a post office, where you can send postcards  that say "Wish you were here."  My favorite tee shirt said "Hell--it's still safer than Detroit."   We got our picture taken, bought a coffee mug saying   "Coffee from Hell"   and left. 

Seriously,  though,  it was all not as fun as I thought.  It was a cheap tourist attraction based on a single joke.  The people we saw who lived  there were sad looking, and reminded me of carneys. With the cartoon devils and skeletons everywhere,  the whole place gave the impression of a  bad  Halloween display. 

It's all great fun,  unless you believe in hell, which I do.  Hell is a real place.  It is one thing to capitalize on an unusual name, but this went beyond it. Real hell is no joke.  

Looking at this little place,  I remember we treat the name of Hell as an obscenity. An obscene word is not one that should never be mentions, but one that should be mentioned only when it is appropriate, and respectfully hidden otherwise.   When you talk about hell and Satan too often, or laugh about them too loudly,   it loses its power to shock and frighten.   This  little town tries to make a year round joke over the accidental name, and in doing so have reduced hell to a cheap joke.  

I must admit,  the thought of going through this little town was amusing, and we had a good laugh.  It amused waitresses on our way home when we showed off our pictures.  But I felt sorry for the people who were there. I would much rather see them more heavenly minded than hell-minded.   I would like to see Hell become a little less tawdry and forlorn place.