January 7, 1998

Irony winds way into names of roads less traveled


By Garret Leiva
Herald staff writer

Leon Wilson lives on Celery. Randy Webber grew up with the Devil just outside his door. And every winter, George Whitehead shovels snow on Miami Beach.

Strange as it sounds, these local men share something in common: They all live on oddly named streets. Celery Drive, Devil's Dive Road and Miami Beach Road are just a sampling of the more unusual road and street names peppered throughout the Grand Traverse region.

They are names that reflect the history of the time or the surrounding topography. Some are rooted in humor, others their meaning long since forgotten.

One man who knows how a road gets its name is Rainer Reichert of the Grand Traverse County Equalization Department. Though even he is at a loss for how a desolate dirt road in Whitewater Township became Deadhorse Road. "I don't know, maybe at one time there really was a dead horse on the road," said Reichert, a geographic information system technician.

What is for certain is that private roads like Deadhorse must be given a name if there are five or more splits running off of it. Under this county ordinance, three names are chosen as possibilities by either residents or the property's developer. Those names are then put before a plat review board to check for duplication, after which the appropriate township board gives final approval.

When it comes to public right-of-ways, Reichert said that townships and the county road commission are given authority to come up with a name. Street and road names are also determined by a county grid system and a city numbering system that extend out in different directions.

For a majority of the area's roadways, names usually fall into time-tested categories. Birds are big. Cardinal, Blue Jay and Sparrow tend to flock together. Even species not indigenous to the area make the list. Just try finding a Flamingo in Blair Township.

Trees are another popular choice. From a Thousand Oaks to a single Lone Tree Road.

Proper names also run the gamut from Alice Lane to Woody's Run. With Rex, Richard, Robert and Rose thrown in for good measure.

Sometimes, however, a road name isn't simply Long or Short, but off the beaten path all together.

"It was not a nice road. The only people who went down it were those that lived on it and people going to the dump," said Randy Webber, describing Devil's Dive Road on Old Mission Peninsula.

Webber said that when he was a kid the road had all kinds of dives and hairpin turns. However, 10 years ago many of the hills were cut out and the devilish curves were straightened.

Webber, whose family has lived on the road for more than 50 years, said his address has always peaked the interest of others. "Teachers and classmates would ask me about my address. They thought I was making it up," Webber said.

Leon Wilson also gets puzzled inquires about his address. "People always ask me the spelling and I say, 'Just like the vegetable,'­" said the Celery Bay Drive resident.

Wilson, who has lived at his present address since 1976, speculates that the name of this East Bay Township drive comes from nearby Wild Celery Bay. "To find out for certain you would probably have to talk to someone long since buried," said Wilson, who still laughs at the mention of floating vegetables.

While some names stand out because of their unique nature, others share a similarity that gets them noticed.

Take Central Park in Green Lake Township. Lee Gwyn, a resident on the unpaved private drive for six years, has been to New York City and said the two Central Parks are "not quite the same." While the Central Park on Duck Lake Peninsula does offer tennis courts and swing sets, Paul Simon is unlikely to put on a benefit concert there anytime soon.

George Whitehead also finds little comparison between his Miami Beach in Whitewater Township and its Florida counterpart. Especially in the middle of February.

In a touch of irony, Whitehead said that many "snow birds" do leave their homes on Miami Beach Road in the winter for balmy Miami Beach.

Irony also winds its way down other roads in Grand Traverse County. Like having Vagabond Lane as your fixed address. Owning a home on Apartment Drive. Paying more than $280 for property on Marvin's Garden. Or in the case of Joel Cox, living on Nimrod Road in Blair Township, which means "mighty hunter," when you don't even hunt.

For Reichert of the county equalization department, however, roadways should reflect a fair amount of uniqueness and local flavor. Even if the end result is Deadhorse.

"The county is not in the business of dictating road names," he said. "We like to let locals name roads and create their time in history."