After being pronounced dead in the Vietnam War, veteran John Colone escaped death, but sent himself to Hell — the one in Michigan, that is. 

“I was shot four times, toe tag on, and put in a body bag and sent back to the morgue. They said I was dead and put me on the pile of bodies there,” Colone said. “The second time I rolled off the pile, they decided to open the bag. A young medic took a ballpoint pen and stabbed me in the foot. I jumped.” 

After spending nearly two years in the hospital, Colone returned home. He bought and resurrected a failing car dealership before finding refuge in the little unincorporated community of Hell. 

Hell, located 20 miles northwest of Ann Arbor, was settled in 1838 by George Reeves. While the origins of the name are up for debate, Colone shares his own theory with visitors of the town. 

“The 13th of October, 1843, the state came by and asked George what he wanted to name the town,” Colone said. “‘Call it Hell for all I care.’ I know that’s true because I wrote it myself.” 

Colone, who grew up in Pinckney, Michigan, used to visit Hell as a young boy. Living only three miles away, Colone would make the trip to Hell’s liquor store, notorious for selling to underage kids. A young salesman, Colone bought bottles of wine and sold boozy snow cones to his friends for fifty cents a piece. 

According to Colone, Hell was a motorcycle town, bustling with gangs and fighting. That was the status quo until 1998, when Colone purchased a block of property and transformed it into a witty gift shop. Tourists can purchase coffee mugs, t-shirts, shot glasses, decor, and more, all designed around the town’s name: Hell. Colone had a dream to change the town for the better. 

“I had to change the image,” Colone said. “The sheriff’s department called me to say I was crazy. I kept saying ‘I think I can change this.’ So the first thing I did was stop selling booze.”

With a population of just 72, the unincorporated community is now a tourist attraction, drawing visitors from all over the state. Colone is the brains behind rebranding the town as well as its unofficial mayor. 

“We did 287 weddings last year. A marriage that starts in Hell has nowhere to go but up,” Colone said. “We sell the position of mayor. We just opened the scattering yard. Leave the ashes of your loved one or that SOB that deserves to be in Hell. Everybody’s got somebody that’s tucked in a drawer somewhere.” 

In addition to the gift shop, the small town offers miniature golf, a “creamatory” ice cream parlor, a real coffin, and a Hell’s Locks of Love bridge, where couples can leave a lock to signify their love. Colone revealed there are over 900 locks currently on the bridge. 

In September, Colone and his staff created their 100th t-shirt design, with the store boasting over $176,500 worth of inventory. 

Colone said in the winter, only four employees manage the store, while in the summer months, the store requires up to 17 employees to account for the influx of tourism to the town. 

However, there is no typical tourist that visits Hell. 

“Sometimes you think no one is average if they come here,” Colone said. 

Rolanda Hinton and Danielle Browning made the stop in Hell during their road trip to Indiana. 

Hinton, from Michigan, was aware of the town, which is what prompted the visit. 

“It is the type of place you convince your best girlfriends to stop at with you,” Hinton said. 

Browning said they looked up the attractions before stopping but enjoyed the gift shop and planned to stay for dinner. 

“We wanted to make sure there was actually something here,” Hinton said. “It was a little bit out of the way so we wanted to make sure it wasn’t just a sign.” 

Browning purchased a sign from the gift shop reading “Welcome to Hell” as well as other knick knacks. 

After experiencing the town, Browning said it is definitely worth the stop.

According to Colone, Netflix highlighted Hell as one of America’s funniest small towns. 

Before assuming the status of “unofficial mayor of Hell”, a position that can be purchased by the day for $120, Colone served in the 101st Airborne Division of the Army during the Vietnam War. He was forced to choose between the draft and jail, with 22 points on his license for drag racing and an expulsion from college for poor grades. 

“I went down and asked to be drafted,” Colone said. “After six week basic training, they asked me to consider leadership school. They saw something in me.” 

Colone was sent to Vietnam during the 1968 Tet Offensive where he sustained grave injuries. 

He left the army in debt and decided to enter the car business. Even then, Hell was on Colone’s mind. 

“Back in the 60s, we all named our cars on the fenders,” Colone explained. “Mine was Abaddon, and if you read the first page of Old Testament, it talks about Abaddon, the angel from Hell.” 

Even Colone’s personal phone number, which was given to him while owning the car dealership, is hellish, ending in the numbers “6-6-6.” 

Eventually, he became the fourth largest volume Chrysler dealership in Michigan, and one of his employees brought the 1998 sale of the town to his attention. 

“A week later, I owned this store,” Colone said. 

Colone’s goal has always been to be different, a trait that has carried through his entire life, and brought him much success while owning his car dealership. 

“We have to be different than other places. I used to take anything for trade. 68 geese one time, horses, cows,” Colone said. “I took a pig on trade for a car.” 

Colone explained these trades helped him acquire some of the property he owns in Hell. 

“The guy next door here, contacted me and said ‘We would like to buy a new truck.’I still had to give him some money because the property was worth more,” Colone said. “Trucks were inexpensive, probably $6,000. So that’s how I ended up getting this property first.” 

For Colone, the creative side of the business is one of the most fun parts, constantly coming up with new ideas to make people laugh. 

“Our biggest thing is that people laugh,” Colone said. “Our postcards are ‘Hellmark’ cards because we do not send the very best. Little things like that are catchy.” 

Colone revealed he has not had a paycheck in 23 years. He lives off of his military benefits and Social Security, allowing him to put the success of his empire to good use. 

“We have bumper stickers that we give away free to veterans,” Colone said. “They say ‘Caution, caution, veteran who has been through hell and has received no consoling.’” 

Colone also engages with different philanthropies, from food banks to nonprofits. 

“It’s the privilege of still being alive and working in Hell,” Colone said.