Farewell My Old Friend

 

Did you ever feel that a place you visited was more like an old friend than a destination? That is what Conneaut Lake Park had been in my lifetime. From when I was a little girl up until only about three years ago, this wonderfully nostalgic park held a special place in my heart.

As a small child, we didn't take elaborate vacations. When Dad said, let's pack up the car and go, I knew that it meant the simple one-and-a-half hour trip to Conneaut Lake Park. There, we would find a cheap, small motel or even a cottage. Musty, even with a smattering of mildew, these places were wonderful to me. For two nights and three days, we bonded closely as a family enjoying midway games such as Fascination, balloon darts (which Mom was super good at), and the ever-popular fish pond.

I'd ride ponies in Kiddie Land, drive metal cars around a track and boats with a bell to ring around a type of pool, sit upon elaborate, decorated horses in the carousel, laugh until we almost peed on The Turtle, and especially awaited the trip in a ride-through haunted house.

When my brother came along, we began bringing him to our family fun destination. I know he loved it as much as I did. So many happy days and nights! So many memories made.

My own children enjoyed Conneaut Park in their time too. They spent hours in an old-fashioned arcade playing video games, ski ball, and mostly claw machines. We'd eat corn dogs, pizza, and French fries. We'd enjoy an ice cream cone afterward. 

For all of our generations, The Devils Den, the "haunted ride" was a favorite. There was the familiar smell of grease and metal as you waited on the platform. There were sounds of the clack, clack, clack, as the carts rode along the track. There was anticipation of thrills, squeals, and maybe even a shriek as ghosts, witches and other spooktacular goblins lit up in the darkened hallways as we approached.

One of the more recent and special visits for me was time spent with my son on a Mother's Day just a few years ago. We ate a lovely meal at the Hotel Conneaut, and walked through the quiet park as it awaited a new season. Yes, it was getting a bit old. It was showing signs of neglect. But there had been people who seemed to care as much as we did. They tried renovating, repairing, and adding a little extra zip and newness to the atmosphere of antiquity.

My son adored the extremely frightening, yet very popular Blue Streak rollercoaster. When we first heard it was being torn down last year, our hearts sank. Then, little by little, other bits and pieces of the park were hauled away.

I told myself I didn't want to see it in that condition. I never wanted to be privy to behind-the-scenes of its demolition. Yet this past weekend, I did just that. My heart sank as the sight of weeds and tall grasses growing in every direction. The pit in my stomach widened seeing gaping holes in the landscape of an area which held colorful, fun rides. A wasteland. A waste to me. I wish someone would have been able to make it a historic landmark. I wish it could have been there for future generations and that my own grandchildren would laugh, squeal, play, and know what a simple, but unique vacation spot this park was meant to be.

I am going to mourn a little today. I will tell myself it will be okay. It had to be this way. After all, this is progress, time marching on, money to be made by property that will probably sport condos and such. Future generation won't know what I knew. And you know what? That makes me feel a little special.

Death of a family destination.

Almost impossible to tell what was there.

Sad-looking Devil's Den during demolition.

The Devil's Den in better days

Nostalgic, Creepy, and Wonderful (A Mother's Day Tale)

As always, the last turn on the winding country road as the top of the old, wooden roller coaster peeks out from the trees, gives my stomach a jolt of excitement. I'll never forget when I was a little girl, how the sight of that coaster, the sound of it whooshing and whomping along the track, and the laughter and thrill screams from countless people who rode it, alerted me to the fact that our family had just arrived at Conneaut Lake Park. And just as it had many times before, the coaster didn't fail to disappoint.

 My son and I put our heads together this year for a Mother's Day jaunt. Not the usual type of mother/son duo, we enjoy things of a more eclectic nature. Last year Matt took me to haunted Hillview Manor for a daytime ghost tour. It was a wonderful old building with incredible architecture and the feel of ghostly happenings in many of its crumbling corners. How could we top a trip of that nature?

We arrived at Conneaut Park yesterday as the rain began clearing. Though the park hasn't opened for the season just yet, we were permitted to walk along its paths, reliving the feel of a bygone era and our own youth. We parked at Hotel Conneaut since we had reservations a little later for the Mother's Day brunch.

With both of our camera's in hand, we headed off into the heart of the park. I had been watching several of the Facebook pages that had to do with this incredible place. The Devil's Den, a favorite dark ride of ours, seemed to have a wonderful guy as its operator/caregiver. For you see, if you have a true love of all things historical to do with an amusement park, you become its caregiver of a sort.

"Devil's Den Tom" is appropriately named. A fun, approachable fellow, whose knowledge of his ride and history of many of the others is above what we expected.

Matt and I settled in for many tales that Tom told us of his years of upkeep on the Den. He also is a certified ride inspector, so he is aware of safety issues and history of many of the rides throughout the park. We received one of the most awesome gifts from Tom, as he toured us through the Devil's Den in walk-through fashion. Never before had either Matt or I had the chance to go through a ride with a true first eye view of what goes on behind the scenes. It was a dream come true for both of us--and a way to feel more connected to a beloved place that has been a part of our family for many years.

Just standing outside the old dark ride, the scent of motor grease and old wood rises on the slight breeze. If you close your eyes, it takes you back to childhood, to school picnics, to simpler times. You remember your parents and their love; you remember the sense of belonging. You remember small vacation trips that were some of the best of your life. You picture the clack, clack, clack of the cars as they begin the journey through the doors of the old spook house, awaiting whatever ghouls and ghosties are ready to dole out at any moment. If you rode with a parent when you were young, chances are that they held onto you tightly showing you that there was nothing to fear. It was all good clean fun.

A little later, after a sumptuous meal, Matt and I strolled through the remainder of the park at our leisure. The silence in Kiddie Land seems alive with what awaits in the new season. Upon searching in nearby woods, I found the beginning and ending of an old jungle cruise ride--one I hadn't seen in years. A rickety bridge stretched over mossy water; the now defunct station where we once stood to board the pontoon boat that would take you around scores of natives and wild animals was abandoned and off-limits.

The carousel stood boarded up nearby. No way to see the lovely stallions, stately lions, tigers and bears! (Oh my!) But when we walked around the back of the building, a small loose board stood slightly ajar. I peered into the darkness and called Matt over. Like something out of "Mr. Dark's carnival," we could see the ghostly outlines of the carousel beasts. No music, not the stir of a breeze or dried leaf. But the feeling of observing this was something magical. For it felt as if we stumbled upon a secret--one only we were privy to at this moment.

Other parts of the park lie in wait for the amazing volunteers that will sweep through as they finish getting it ready for another season. Though I know we will return once it's opened, I found that this day of reliving precious memories and moments with nobody else present, helped me to truly treasure a unique place that my parents loved, my brother loved, I loved, and my son loved.

Here's to you Conneaut Lake Park to many more years for new families and old to walk through your midway, to enjoy the treasure of family time and make memories of their own.

 Park sign near the hotel. All painted and ready for a new season.

 Wonderful old kiddie land auto ride. I'm sure they are the same ones I rode as a child!

 The awesome dark ride! So many other parks have gotten rid of theirs.

 Matt might be standing around a little longer waiting for the ride to open.

 The exit platform to the Jungle Cruise ride from many, many years ago. So cool.

 I've never seen this little treasure. The original bridge to the Jungle Cruise ride. Oh how our family loved this one back in the day!

 How cool is this? Though I'd never walk across, it just screams of another era. Oh the stories a bridge could tell.

Part of the park near miniature golf.

Hotel Conneaut in its grand splendor! Hoping for many more years at this glorious historical place.

Thank you, son, for one of the most memorable Mother's Days ever!

Devil's Den Facebook page: /https://www.facebook.com/CLPDevilsDen/

The park's Facebook page:  https://www.facebook.com/SaveConneautLakePark/

 

Lately I've Been Thinking

How many times have we said this saying? But lately, I have been thinking. As I approach another birthday, I see lines on my face which weren't there a few short years ago. I feel the ache of my bones, joints creaking when I sit too long, or the overuse of muscles from a hard day's work. I sigh in melancholy thinking about days gone by, pondering long over old photos, my hand resting upon them, willing those times to return.

I remember as a child, the trips we took as a family. Not the magnificent Walt Disney vacations most people go to now. These were simple, short trips. West View Park, about a half-hour away, playing games, riding kiddie rides, eating too much sticky, sweet food. And the very special overnight trips to Conneaut Lake Park, about an hour-and-a-half drive. Staying in old bungalows, some with sagging roofs, evidence of rodents, with the stuffing pulled from old sofas, the smell of mold and mildew. Cold, rainy mornings, but brilliant sunshine later in the day. A nighttime nip to the air staying in the old slightly haunted Conneaut Hotel by the lake.

I've been thinking about beloved pets long gone, the dogs who happily licked my face, the cats that spent hours listening to a little girl's tales. Birds, fish, a parade of hamsters and when they'd breathed their last, my mother always telling me they'd ran away to spare me of the pain of their deaths.

Mom and Dad. Older now, still beautiful people with beautiful hearts. Mom, as she made stories up, giving me the love of an imagination. Dad, as he patiently built crystal radio kits, helped me with homework, or explained football to me on a Sunday afternoon.

A baby brother born fourteen years after I'd been an only child. The closeness we shared as I watched him grow. The friendship, laughter and special secrets shared.

My own son. Now twenty-six years old, a young man with visions and his own dreams, own memories.

Yes, I'm all grown up now and I have been thinking. . . Yet the promise of future and hope is on the horizon, the events to look forward to with anticipation. Treasure your old memories, but don't linger with them too long. Let them pass as you make room for new ones.