The flash of fun house lights, the smell of fried dough, the hum of screaming kids on rides, the bite of fresh lemonade, and the warmth of a setting sun. The feeling of nostalgia cannot be closed, but it ignites all five senses.
It’s the carnival magic the Skerbeck family has been making for seven generations.
Bob Skerbeck compares it to Field of Dreams. You don’t know why it attracts you, but it does.
“When the sun goes down and the lights come on. you get a twinkle in your eye and a feeling like, ‘Oh yeah, that’s what it’s all about,’” he said. “It’s nice to have that daily reminder.”
Bob is a sixth generation carnival worker. He manages the operations alongside his siblings, Dustin and Carly, and their parents, Bill and CJ.
The Skerbeck Family Carnival dates back to 1857 when Frank Skerbeck Sr. traded in his linen factory for a small circus in Aussig, Bohemia. The family immigrated to America in the 1880s and landed in the Midwest. They bought 44 acres overlooking Wisconsin sight unseen.
In 1897, the family bought its first ride, an amusement ride, and the business became a mix of circus and carnival.
By the 1930s, the carnival grew its way into the Midwest bringing four rides, five shows and 10 concessions to areas of Wisconsin, Northern Michigan, Chicago and Minneapolis.
After the opening of the Mackinac Bridge in 1957, a toss-up decided whether the carnival would expand further into Wisconsin or Michigan’s lower peninsula. The Great Lakes State won and the Skerbeck Carnival became one of Michigan’s longest running carnivals.
Family members have gone to college, traveled the country, and done other jobs, but they all come back to those lights in the middle of the road.
Bill Skerbeck, president of the carnival, said he encouraged his children to pursue other careers. Long days in the sun and nights in the trailer consume the summer, and planning for the next season consumes the winter.
“I tried to push all three kids out of the business,” he said. “And they all came back.”
Raised on the streets himself, Bill has only had one summer off in six decades – the summer of 2020. He finally learned to play golf, but he says that was really the only highlight. He missed the carnival.
“You have to like the job,” he said. “If you don’t like the job, then you don’t belong here. You measure time off in hours rather than days this time of year.”
But there is plenty of fun on the carnival circuit. And that includes blossoming new relationships.
Midway’s success rate rivals that of Match.com when it comes to connecting couples.
Bill’s sister, Cindy, met her future husband, Tim Koleff, more than 50 years ago while the two were playing at the midway. They are still located next to each other; between them is only a price wall.
Stacey Bukowski has worked with the Skerbeck Family Carnival for nearly 30 years. She also met her husband while working on the road.
Watching from her water syringe race in the next game booth, she laughs that her future son-in-law is in the business, too. Two of her four children work at the carnival and have continued the tradition of finding love in the middle of the road.
Bloodline or not, almost everyone in the middle of the road is intertwined, with years of history between them. Carnival travels with a core group of about 45 workers, most of whom are family units.
Skerbeck Family Carnival is a rare exception in the industry because it is staffed entirely by local workers. With its network and reputation, Carnival has been able to find American workers, while other tour groups have been pushed to use the work visa program, hosting migrant workers from around the world.
CONNECTED: The show must go on. Carnivals are operating at half capacity while understaffed.
“At the end of the day, family is what keeps the wheel turning,” reads a post on the Skerbeck Family Carnival website.
The sentiment continues to ring true as 94-year-old Arlene Altenburg stands on the road with her family.
“She’s basically managing the middle of the road out of her trailer,” Bob said. “She’s not afraid to tell me or my dad what we should be doing.”
Altenburg and her first husband Eugene Skerbeck took over the business in 1952. The two met as teenagers when Altenburg’s family joined the Skerbeck Carnival.
When Eugene died in 1969, Altenburg and Eugene’s sister, Pauline Skerbeck, ran the carnival at a time when female business leaders were rare. They sold it to their sons in 1972.
In the 1950s, the trailers had no running water and circus sideshows were still the carnival’s main event, a moving piece of history.
The rides are more advanced now, but hand-painted murals still line the trailers, marking where the carnival has been.
The outside world was always shaping the carnival bubble. During World War II, Altenburg remembers games and prizes aimed at bringing down the Nazis.
Television in its golden age also changed the entertainment scene, she said. The Skerbecks had a long history of snake charmers, sword swallowers, perverts and high-wire acts dating back to the 1880s. But it all fell out of fashion by the mid-60s.
What has remained consistent are the Skerbecks themselves.
The seventh generation is now midway.
Thirteen-year-old Dusty, son of Dustin and Carly, can be found calling the shots in the basketball game. His cousins won’t be far behind.
No matter where the trailers are parked, home is where the heart is.
“At my age I could be home, but there’s no one home,” Altenburg said. “None of my family is there. So here I am, with my family.”
More on MLive:
Mackinac Island plays the job lottery as summer workers are hard to find
The Hot Air Jubilee ends with big crowds, good weather and balloon flights
10 Zipline Tours in Michigan for an Unforgettable Adventure
15 Michigan Summer Vacation Ideas We Bet You’ve Never Tried
