March 29, 2002 We have told Bessie many times that she could be going to hell if she wasn't more careful. She never took us too seriously. However, last weekend when we shoved her into the car and told her we couldn't wait to see her in Hell, she got a little nervous. It got worse as she listened to our conversation along the way. "There sure is no direct way to get to Hell." "You would think the road to Hell would be more clearly marked." "It's nice to see the sun is coming out. Maybe it will be nice and warm when we get to Hell." "Would you believe that last week Hell froze over?" What Bessie, and many people for that matter, didn't realize is that Hell is actually a small town in Michigan. Bessie realized the joke was on her when we got there. It's about as small a small town as you can get. However, they sure seem to capitalize on their name. Bessie ran straight for the boards that you stick your head through the hole so people can take a funny picture of you. We also visited the general store in Hell and took Bessie's picture on a rock out front. It was still pretty cold out and we were the only tourists around. As we were leaving, I wondered to myself if this was the only place where you would never overhear someone saying, "It's hotter than hell out here." Well, maybe they don't say that in the real hell either...
