To Hell and Back

Those of you in Michigan will especially appreciate this piece by Bill Chapin, whose parents and grandparents are long-time members of Portage Yacht Club where we all grew up. Bill graduated with, I believe, a journalism degree from Northwestern and now writes for the Port Huron (Michigan) Times Herald. This column appeared in September after the PYC Hot-to-Trot Regatta. A tip of the sombrero to Bill's dad, Clark Chapin, for sending us this....


The Name Says it All -- Visiting Port Huron Not Like Going to Hell

Originally published Friday, September 22, 2006

Last weekend, for the first time, I went to Hell.

The small lake where my father has raced sailboats since the 1960s is just five minutes up the road from Hell in Livingston County's Putnam Township. I've been going to the lake my entire life, but I'd never made the trip down -- appropriately enough -- Darwin Road to Hell.

On Saturday, some fellow sailors decided we needed to take the out-of-state visitors to the Dam Site Inn, one of three buildings in Hell. The unincorporated community of about 250 people doesn't have much to offer other than the biker bar, a general store, an ice cream parlor and a canoe livery.

For being in the middle of nowhere, the Dam Site Inn was damn crowded. The pizza was damn spicy and the band played some damn good John Mellencamp tunes.

Hell started out as swampy stop along the trail between Lansing and Dexter. In the 1830s, a New York farmer named George Reeves established a mill and general store along the creek.

According to the community's not-quite-official Web site, www.hell2u.com, the name became official on Oct. 13, 1841. Legend has it a representative from the state asked Reeves the name of his little town, and he replied, "Call it Hell for all I care!"

On my way to the bar, I called my girlfriend in Port Huron to tell her my plans for the evening.

"You have fun doing whatever you're doing tonight," I said.

"And you go to Hell," she said.

See? That gag never gets old -- which is the point. The town has made an industry out of Hell-themed kitsch. People go out of their way to get their taxes postmarked at the general store.

Perhaps this is what Port Huron is lacking. Thousands of people pass our city every day to cross the Blue Water Bridge, but most of them never exit the freeway to buy a T-shirt. "I've been to Port Huron and back" just doesn't have the same zing as Hell's version.

Other towns have changed their names to scare up some tourism. Residents of Hot Springs, N.M., in 1950 voted to change the town's name to Truth or Consequences after the NBC game show. Halfway, Ore., is now Half.com, Ore., having sold its name to an Internet company. There's Monkey's Eyebrow, Ariz.; Spuds, Fla.; Krypton, Ky.; Novelty, Mo.; Happyland, Okla.; and Oatmeal, Texas.

Surely Port Huron can come up with something equally oddball. We can't go halfway (or half.com, for that matter) on this. It's got to be something so bizarre no one could possibly pass by without getting out of the car to get a picture taken next to the "welcome" sign.

Is Bad Axe already taken? It is?

Hmmmm. Well, send me your ideas.

What I'm digging: I'm going to pull a Mitch Albom and write about something that happened after my deadline as if I had actually been there. Heirs' final show on Thursday at Military Street Music Café was amazing. Tears were shed as the band members gave a big thank you to all their fans. Great show, guys.

Contact Bill Chapin at (810) 989-0741 or bchapin@gannett.com.