We knew something cool was going to happen before we even stepped into Fat Lenny’s. We knew it because it was called Fat Lenny’s, but also because of the life-sized human-cat mannequin.
Randy Gilson didn’t exactly step into a void when he bought a dilapidated old home in the Mexican War Streets and transformed it into Randyland.
It wasn’t dawn when we parked at the mouth of the abandoned turnpike, as I had hoped. It was after four in the afternoon. Also, it had started to rain.
Pennsylvania loves its war heroes, but only one of them had his bones boiled for transport: Mad Anthony Wayne.
Knoebels—85 and counting—is as spry as amusement parks half her age, but with ten times the class.
Our guide retells the story of Centralia, a ghost town done in by a mine fire that started in the 1960s.