My grade school had annual outings to the island. Though I didn’t especially enjoy the boat ride at the time (approx. 80 minutes), I would love another chance to experience the sights, sounds and smells of the boat. Each had either a dance floor, arcade or both, concessions and of course an amazing view of the Detroit River. The park itself was relatively small with a couple dozen rides ranging from bump’em cars to full-on rollercoaster thrill rides. I was never quite old enough to enjoy the park to the fullest and regret having been afraid of the best rides.

These days, the entire island returned to its residential roots, housing private homes, vacation property, and marina space. Who knows… in another 20 years rides may return and ferries could carry excited Detroiters to that little chunk of Canada (yep… it’s really part of Canada) to appreciate local amusements… though I doubt it.

Here’s some more Bob-Lo Island resources:

• Huge Collection of Bob-Lo Images and Info
• 1984 Bob-Lo Radio Commercial
• Detroit Historical Society Bob-Lo Page
• Wikipedia’s Bob-Lo Page

The actual game itself wasn’t the main attraction. Heck, most games were merely a square darting around the screen avoiding other squares. When we played games as a group, it became a production. Alternate storylines to the game evolved: Activision’s Space Shuttle game grew to include mission control, mission specialists, and technicians, Missile Command became a life and death struggle between the US and the commies… which one should note was un-winnable.

Many early games relied heavily on the printed instruction manual packed with each cartridge wherein the back story was established and the difference between the all-too-similar bad guys was explained. The Nintendo Entertainment System was the first home console that actually had recognizable characters on the screen and a developed storyline that played out on your screen. However, we managed to establish one of the most critically panned games as our favorite: Gumshoe.

In the fall, we would go into hibernation mode. Sure, we would spend some time hiding in leaf piles, playing army, and digging up each others’ yards. But as the outdoor temperatures dropped, we found ourselves inside more often. One of the youngest members of the “Brat Patrol”, “C.J.”, had a Nintendo (which was still a relatively new gaming system). He had a few sports games for it, but the title that we all marveled at was “Gumshoe.”

The Nintendo “Blaster” was a light gun that had a simple camera that was able to detect flashing signals sent from the T.V. when the trigger was pulled. You would aim the blaster at the hapless “Gumshow” and shoot him to make him jump, as well as shoot oncoming projectiles, cars, bad guys, and (oddly enough) floating balloons. The game was horrible. It was the only Nintendo game I ever remembered to randomly lock up the console. We were luck if we made it through a few levels. However, we were held captive by the implied story line (we read the manual while waiting for our turn to play) and the prospect of firing a “gun” at the television.

We never spent much time playing video games, but when the weather was too hot or too cold, we would sneak inside for a few minutes of R.C. Pro-Am or Duck Hunt. Today, many kids spend far too much time isolated from each other or making “virtual friends” online via World of Warcraft or Halo. They let their game consoles do the imagining for them. Old school games forced you to imagine that a blinking triangle was your spaceship. Video games were novel enough that 6 or 7 of us could crowd into a den and just watch each other play Pitfall, then after 30 minutes-or-so, we ran outside and played it in real life… except with sprinklers for crocodiles
and each other for logs!

[Click Here To Read Article and Watch Video]

The hill was a blast in the winter. We would go in small groups to sled down the hill. At one time, there were toboggan runs. They were great when iced over, but eventually grass grew in the cracks and they were removed. (Legend told of a little girl that wiped out on her sled and knocked all of her teeth out, but that was mostly local urban myth.)

Eventually, we outgrew playing war in the alleys and backyard bushes and moved to the Nature Area. We would have epic hunter/hunted battles. Days were spent building forts and traps throughout the single acre wooded lot. We mostly just sat there in our rigged-up base talking and eating lunch.

When were a little older (maybe between 12 and 16), we would venture to the Nature Area at night, dressed head to toe in military camouflage. Although it started as a chance to play “witch” (kind of like tag at night… more on that later) in the woods, it quickly evolved into “hey-let’s-scare-the-crap-out-of-drunk-highschool-kids.” Jocks and their prey would hang out at the picnic benches just outside of the Naych swigging on ill-gotten booze and ghetto-taxed beer. We found this practice despicable (at the time). So, what else was there to do other than shoot the drinks off of the table with BB guns and slingshots? Most of the time, this would send the offenders scattering, yelling all the way to their cars. (Balduck had a reputation as a dangerous place because a body was found behind the hill in the early 80’s.) Rarely, the letter-jacket wearing tough guys would venture into the woods to prove their manhood. Mistake.

By this point, the majority of us were 14, 15, and 16 years old. Some of us had a few years of high school wrestling experience and were in the best shape of our lives. The jocks would enter the Naych. 1 or 2 of the crew would then cover the entrance with a big branch of leaves. Then the biggest of the bunch would drop from the trees directly in front of them… dressed in full combat gear. Drunk and scared out of their minds, the Jocks would run back towards the entrance that no longer existed (once they figured it out and screamed “they’re trying to trap us… we’re going to die!”), freak out and turn around to run down a random path. At that point we usually uncovered the entrance and snuck around trying to find them without revealing our location. Awesome.

One time, however, they must have called the police, because Detroit’s finest showed up with a spotlight and some flashlights (on a night that we didn’t scare any drinkers). Although very scary, we managed to escape undetected. A huge rush, yes… but also pretty stupid. At around 6’ 2” and 180 lbs, I might have looked pretty scary dressed in camo, to both a jock and the cops.

As we grew older and spent more time at school or driving around with our newly earned licenses, we visited Balduck less and less often. I still remember that place very fondly. Every time I look out my window at the woods around our house, I think “hey, that would be a great place to build a fort and play witch.” Someday, I might do just that.

Occasionally, one of the neighborhood dogs on the other side of the alley fence would discover us, bark a bit, and then be on it’s way. The real excitement happened when the people who’s garages lined the other side of the alley started backing out. We tried our darnedest to keep from being discovered. Occasionally, we would be chased off because it was “too dangerous” in the alley. However, minutes later, we would be back, planning world domination one alley at a time.