Interstate 30 East goes into Holden Beach, where our family has been going for years, my wife's family for years before that. And right before the scenery shifts from North Carolina rural to non-commercial beachy, there's a curve in the road. And right before the curve in the road, there is a weird, over-cluttered lot we've always called the Creepy Doll Place.
From the street, it looks like a setting from a cheap 80's horror movie, a place where the non-supervised vacationing teenagers go on a dare, where someone in a hockey mask teaches them the ultimate moral lesson about their debauchery the night before.
You miss Creepy Doll Place if you don't know it's coming, because you're either on your way to your vacation, on your way back home, or on your way to or from Wal Mart.
Creepy Doll Place became a punchline. And every year we'd say we'd stop to see it, and every year there was less time on vacation than we expected, and every year the mystery grew.
My brother joined us at the beach with his family this year, and he joked with us about the Creepy Doll Place. When his few days at the beach ran out without us having gone to see it, the dare was on. My brother's expectation was not just that I visit the Creepy Doll Place, but that I prove it.
Creepy Doll Place from Stefan Farrenkopf on Vimeo.
For less ironic but more professional information about Mary Paulsen, including a video about her latest project, click here.
