Village of the Wolves

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What the hell?

First, photographer awayfromkeyboard mentioned "a trip to find a fabled cult-driven neighborhood called Village of the Wolves" in Flint.

Next, an anonymous reader added:

"Village of Wolves was a a bizarre agricultural community of sorts on Groveland and West Boulevard Drive. Tucked between junk yards, Eastern European Cemeteries, and a mobile home park its residents did seem a bit zombie like. A very strange place indeed, the farms and graveyards were just a few of the draws. The dirt roads were used for dumping all manner of detritus, dead dogs and the occasional human included. Grave desecration, prostitute sex, makeshift shanty construction, and ditching stolen cars were also popular VOW activities.

"Today VOW is quite a bit different. The roads are paved, a barrier has been erected to prevent through traffic, the flooding problem has been fixed, the makeshift shelters are gone, and a number of the houses have been torn down. Part of the Flint River Bike Trail now courses through the portion of Riverside Park that abuts the neighborhood."

I’ve never heard of this place in Flint. There's nothing about it on the web. I demand more information.

UPDATE FROM MOOKIE:

"Wow! Talk about a weird place. I always knew it as VOTW and thought that my friends (known as the Jew Crue) had christened it that, so it was cool that someone else used that title. It was a weird place all right. For starters, it was a horseshoe street but both ends had a sign that said "Dead End." We had many adventures in that place, including propping dead dogs up in various disturbing poses and interacting with the people that lived there (if you could call them people or that living.)

"I always wondered about the lives of the people that lived there and was always amazed that there was so much trash along the road. Maybe the trashmen were afraid to go back there, but we never were. We were simply fascinated, and bored. It was definitely a place that defined Flint for me during the time I was growing up there.

"Actually at the time I knew it it was not a "neighborhood" in the classical sense like Mott Park or East Village. There were a collection of trailers, woods, and cemetery but no solidly built housing. You would of course drive in off of Dort but then park and roam. It was always this very mysterious place, in that no one knew why the things that were there were there (dead dogs included). The people that were there definitely had this "mutant" feel to them. I think that danger came from the mystery and never knowing if the residents would go Dawn of the Dead on you. As Smurfs Inc said, imagination definitely played a part, but there was a reality of a really messed up [place] that was just under the surface.

"If you are confused, all the better because I think that anyone who has ever experienced that area has walked out of there a little confused themselves."

Village of Wolves Revealed

And now, at long last, actual photos of Flint's Village of Wolves, courtesy of Jar With Most. Sorry, no zombies or dead dogs in these. You'll have to use your imagination. (For the backstory on this intriguing "neighborhood," go here.)






And here's some more insight into what just might be Flint's most mysterious locale:

Smurfs, Inc:

"VOW was like a little slice of "Deliverance" set in depressing late 80s Flint. There really wasn't (isn't?) much for kids to do and if you weren't into drinking, drugging, fighting, or gangbanging, exploration was the next best option. VOW was always good for a an hour or so of amusement on a boring Saturday night, and of course half of the fun was the anticipation of what might happen.

"There were some halfway decent structures back there- a brick ranch, a few decent wood frame houses, and a pole barn. Last time I cruised through it looked like some of the homes had actually been remodelled."

Jim of L-Town:

"During my years as a Flint Journal police reporter I was actually in this neighborhood twice on bodies that were found dumped there.
Never heard of the VOW designation before, but come to think of it, it fits."

Flint Expatriates survives the first year

Has anyone noticed that Flint Expatriates is a year old today? I'm sure your gifts will be arriving in the mail any day now.

A birthday calls for a celebration of some sorts. Let's start with a little music.



Damn, I think I just ruined the party with that disturbing number. Regardless of the bad music, it's been a good year. We've covered everything from Village of Wolves to a brawl at Chuck E Cheese to the saga of Gypsy Jack, a legendary Flintoid whose legendary home may finally be safe in the hands of a well-meaning Canadian. There's even been a glowing profile of the site in The Flint Journal. (I'm still not quite sure how that came to pass, but I'm not complaining.)

And while blog posts are supposed to be short, snappy and nearly instantaneous, I think the best part of Flint Expatriates has been the longer posts that required some thought and reflection. Most of those items were written by someone other than myself, which should tell me something. Here are just a few of the longer items, in no particular order, that are well worth a second look:
Gerry Godin's tales of a river rat.

Stephen Rodrick's late-night adventure with conservative icon William F. Buckley.

John Mennear's return to Homedale School.

Bernard Rosenberg's friendship with Wild Bill the greaser at Southwestern High School.

Mary's journey from Flint to San Francisco and back again.

Rich Frost on Alice Cooper, snakes and Monkees.

Randy Gearheart looks back fondly on his dad and the family Grand Prix.

Redgirl's memories of love among the shelving units at Rollerworld.

Jeff Stork on the road with the Flint Generals.

Sarah Swart's rediscovery of Hidden Park, which wasn't a long post but required a true spirit of adventure. (And I spelled her name right this time.)

Mark Brewer learns to play the harp in Flint.

Pat McFarlane Young's sentimental journey. (Speaking of my mom, she's had quite a few interesting jobs.)

My thanks and appreciation goes out to Flint Expatriate readers for all the posts, comments and generous donations. It's been a lot of fun. Okay, let's be honest, sometimes it's been really depressing, but forget about that now. Instead, let's begin year two with some Boone's Farm and that Flintoid song:

Big Bad Wolf

The menacingly named Village of Wolves in Flint is weird enough, but what about an actual wolf of the large-ass variety allegedly shot near Flint?

Linda Godfrey on Absolute Michigan writes:

One consistently described feature of the Dog Man, an upright-walking canine many witnesses claim stalks the woods and roadsides of Michigan, is its size…usually six to seven feet tall on its hind legs. It stands to reason, then, that massive, wolfen creatures should be glimpsed or even bagged by hunters now and then. That is exactly what happened to a deer hunter named Eastman around noon on November 18, 1935, on the third day of deer hunting season. Eastman was hunting near Flint around Rhody Creek Trail, and despite good weather and a great layer of tracking snow, there were absolutely no deer to be seen.

Eastman soon found out why. He suddenly heard what sounded like “horses running,” and turned to see a massive timber wolf at a dead run. Eastman ended up shooting a wolf rather than a deer that day. He gutted it and dragged it into town to have it weighed and measured; it was 182 pounds even after gutting, and measured seven feet, 11 inches tall when measured hanging vertically. The creature stood 39 inches at the shoulder! It was considered such a magnificent specimen that the carcass was sent to the Carnegie Institute in Pittsburgh where it was mounted and displayed. The entire story of the great Flint Wolf was told in the Great Lakes Pilot, Vol. 3, No. 6, 2005.

Flint assemblage

A Flint photo collage from awayfromkeyboard:

"Made up of over 300 photos from Flint, Michigan while on a trip to find a fabled cult-driven neighborhood called the Village of the Wolves.

"I think the window in the tree in front of the junkyard house is my favorite part, as it was my first photoshop tree. The guardrail to the left of that was largely cloned and masked, as well as the stairs and waterfront directly underneath.

"Masking the junkyard parts in front of the house and stitching the initial panoram that appears in the center were probably the most time-consuming, and ate up the first day.

"One item isn't from flint: the small boat on the left is from a diorama in the ghost town of Fayette, Michigan.

"And, because you're going to do it anyway..."

www.imdb.com/title/tt0074923/

Red Foxes Return to Detroit

Need more evidence that Southeast Michigan is reverting back to nature as the human population declines? We've talked about Flint's increasingly scenic urban forests and savannas. And don't forget about the beaver that returned to the Detroit River. Of course there's the legend of the giant wolf, not to mention the Village of Wolves in Flint.

Now comes news that the elusive red fox has returned to Motown. The Seattle Times reports:

Found across all parts of the state, red foxes typically stick close to more rural areas. But Detroit's dwindling population has meant less noise and more places for foxes to hunt rats, mice, voles, pheasants, cotton tail rabbits and even pigeons.

Many neighborhoods have so few remaining houses that adjoining lots resemble small prairies and woodlands, and Detroit's extensive freeway system and old railroad connections linking the inner city to less populated areas are now serving as routes for wildlife.

"As we move out, wildlife moves in," said Matthew Walter, a fox researcher at Antioch University's New England campus in New Hampshire. "Nature heals the cuts that we've made. As long as they can survive there, and as long as they can raise young and if the hunting is good, they will stay there indefinitely."

Just to clarify, the red fox returning to Detroit should not be confused with the Machus Red Fox in Bloomfield Hills, the last place Jimmy Hoffa was seen alive.