Art has been collecting model trains all his life.
His mom and dad got him started as a kid, and he still has the original toy train. “It still runs,” he says.
After his children left the house, he converted their bedrooms into train rooms.
“It keeps me occupied,” Art says.
After 20 years in the club, with everyone placing trains on each other’s sets, how does he know which train is his?
“We just know.”
Both sides of Blair’s family have worked on the railroad. He has five family members riding the rails.
“I love seeing my brother drive by on the train,” he says.
Blair’s been collecting train memorabilia since he was young. He has an O-gauge train set at home, and the GTs are his favorites.
He’s grateful for the Central Michigan Model Railroad Club.
“I can’t personally work on the railroad because I’m deaf, so this is the next best thing.”
Gene is 85 years old. He’s been seriously collecting trains for more than 55 years. It all started with a $5 set during the Depression.
He served two tours of duty in World War II and in the Korean War.
“When I got home from the service, I started collecting more.”
Since then, he’s been a bit of everything: pest control, fencing (as in fences), antiques.
He’s been with the Central Michigan Model Railroad Club since the beginning, in the 1960s. It’s the tradition – the idea of keeping these old trains alive – that keeps him interested. He likes the G-gauge trains: “The big ones.”
His set is full of moving parts, like a talking car wash, and a tornado that spins around on an old record player.
Gene also collects barbed wire.
Used to be that the Irish Hills, a section of US-12 between Detroit and Chicago, was quite the tourist attraction.
As a kid, my family often went to Stagecoach Stop and Prehistoric Forest, and played putt-putt and drove go karts at the little amusement parks. Even back then there was a level of hokeyness – but it didn’t matter. Those places were tons of fun.
But now, it’s all shutting down. There are a few attractions that are still humming along. The majority, though, lie in disrepair (or worse).
In high school, my dad and step mom were married at Stagecoach Stop’s little chapel, and their reception was held in the old timey tavern.
Stagecoach was a bustling place back in the day. You could watch a gun fight in the town square, grab some ice cream, pet a goat in the petting zoo, and even stay overnight in the motel. There was a working lumber mill, and horse rides, and a drive-through haunted Halloween tour.
Now those places are overgrown and fading away.
Driving down US-12 now, and passing through the Irish Hills, it feels like a ghost town. It’s almost like a run-down part of town, with all the windows broken out and no one left to protect it. Eventually, I’m sure, these roadside attractions will be mowed down completely.
Maybe the dinosaurs at Prehistoric Forest will survive. But more and more each year that place gets eaten by vegetation.
So last fall I took a drive out there, seemingly back in time, to capture some of those attractions I remembered from childhood. Before they disappeared.
At Stagecoach, I ran into a couple that was hosting a garage sale of sorts on the property. Most of the area was closed off, but I asked if I could walk around to grab some photos, and they said “yes.”
The Irish Hills Fun Center, a general amusement park with putt-putt and go karts, was completely abandoned. The kart track was still in decent shape, but the rest of the property was fading fast.
Prehistoric Forest, the true goal of my trip last fall, has been known as a target for vandalism. With motion sensors and cameras guarding the place, it was risky to try to grab photos of the place. When I drove past, there was a utility truck and a man taking measurements, so I played it safe and drove on.
Word is that the place has been sold. Who knows what will happen to it.
It was weird to see a place that was so bustling turn into such a dead spot. I may take another drive out there this fall to see what’s changed – if anything.
(See the rest of the set on Flickr)
Saturday was the last big sale day for my favorite local comic shop. Leonard, the owner, is retiring as of Labor Day.
The good news, however, is that he may have found a buyer for the place. They have to get things worked out with the bank, but otherwise it’s a go.
That’s my friend Jon Hart in the background, there, digging through the alternative titles. I’m mainly a Spidey and X-Men guy, myself.
I have this list of things I want to stop and photograph on my way into work. Concord, Mich. has quite a few little things like this sign that are on my list.
This month-long project is the perfect excuse to pull over, grab the camera, and check one off the list.
I’ve watched these weeds envelop this sign all summer long. Now I got it.
A brick wall I pass every day on my commute to and from work, in Concord, Mich.
Love that, even after it’s been hacked, it hasn’t been fixed.
This time of year is both happy and sad. Happy because, hey, it’s still technically summer.
But it’s sad because it’s the Sunday of summer – the last little bit before fall starts creeping in. Nothing says this more than harvest time, especially this cool summer in Michigan that feels like half-fall anyway.
Fall is a lot of people’s favorite season, but not mine. The crops, though. Man, I’ll take those all autumn long.
Michigan is known mainly for its cherries, apples, and blueberries, but we’re lucky in that a lot of crops grow well here. Peaches, melons, corn.
“You can tell it’s a Michigan [insert crop here],” my family used to say. “They don’t grow these like they do in Michigan.”
I’m not positive that’s true. But I do know that everything tastes pretty darned good this time of year.
Never realized this rope was tied around my dying apple tree in the backyard. Hm.
Also, this one was edited in Aperture for old time’s sake. Do most of my editing/culling in Lightroom, and export to Aperture for management.
