Russell Folk, 17, a coin changer at the Video Magic arcade at 2901 Park Ave., photographed in 1982 (Photo by Clement Britt courtesy The Valentine)
With a pocket full of quarters, Richmonders headed to the arcades to satisfy their “Pac-Man Fever” in the 1980s. By then, they already enjoyed several options to hang out and rack up a high score.
The first standalone and enduring video arcade opened in 1977 in what was then the Chesterfield Mall, according to metro Richmond directories. The shopping center, located at Midlothian Turnpike and Huguenot Road, opened in 1975 with one major store, the well-known regional retailer Miller & Rhoads.
To keep pace with the times, and possibly to cultivate a youth-centric mall culture, the retail center opened an outpost of the 25-member national chain called Funway Freeway. Thomas and Theresa Edwards formed the first management team.
Closer to Richmond, at 5102 Midlothian Turnpike, the Fun Factory arose, perhaps with an eye to attracting clientele from the nearby George Wythe High School. But how much enjoyment the center manufactured isn’t clear; the business apparently didn’t last much more than a year.
Another spot, called the Kiwi Arcade, also opened in 1977. Run by Sharon Swerkes at 6502 Horsepen Road, it, too, proved unfruitful.
Other efforts shared similar fates, such as Odyssey at 9014 W. Broad St.; Wizard’s Family Amusements, 5180 Nine Mile Road; and Guys & Dolls Amusement Center, 21 S. Allen Ave. The Video Magic Amusement Centers franchise made a brief splash across the metro region, with several locations, including 2901 Park Ave. (today the Texas Inn), appearing in 1981 but gone the next year.
Meanwhile, Funway Freeway rolled on at Chesterfield Mall with its coin-operated amusements, 14 pinball machines, 13 video games and one air hockey table.
The late Richmond Times-Dispatch arts and culture writer Robert Merritt took a tour of the Funway Freeway in January 1978. He observed, “Foo[s]ball came and went. Slot car racing didn’t do much better, and now video games have arrived as the newest fad. … The amusement center business has undergone more than its share of changes. … Many have fallen by the wayside, colorful ‘For Rent’ signs going up almost as quickly as the imaginative and catchy names given the short-lived game havens.
“Yet a few survive, even flourish, despite the obstacles.”
Funway Freeway’s mall location offered an advantage over the other arcades. Assistant Manager Alan Walton stressed to Merritt that “we keep the place clean,” with no smoking, drinking or food allowed around the games.
Walton estimated that his clientele consisted of 25% adults, the rest youths. He added, “A mother will come here to shop, and she’ll give the kids a couple dollars and leave them in here. That way she can shop and knows where they are.”
While pinball still dominated, the tween set (before the term existed) also crowded around video games like Indy 800, which allowed eight drivers at a time to race using steering wheels and pedals.
When Merritt asked Walton about the increasing popularity of expensive home-based gaming — the Atari Video Computer System had hit store shelves the previous September with titles such as Indy 500, a version of Indy 800 limited to two players — he responded philosophically, saying people wanted to be among others enthusiastic about their pastime in a place specifically made for that enjoyment. “People get tired of the home games,” he reflected, “and they want to get out to a place that isn’t at all like home.”
In January 1982, RTD writer Larry King delved into the business of video games, which had exploded with the launch of titles such as Space Invaders, Pac-Man and Donkey Kong. Citing the Vending Times, King noted that video games hauled in more than $2.8 billion in 1980, with the numbers for 1981 expected to reach $5 billion. The arrival of computer microprocessors allowed developers to create games of greater complexity that compelled players to feed quarters into the machine. They renewed their game lives to continue the never-ending struggle for victory and the highest score.
A moral panic ensued, with the hypothetical mom who left her kids at the arcade being juxtaposed with parents upset about “seeing their children glued to the glowing screens,” as the Times- Dispatch’s Doug Crichton described in March 1982. Across Virginia, parents sought zoning regulations on the games and venues, including restrictions on the age of players and hours of operation.
The previous fall, Bill Bryan had opened his Montpelier Amusement Center on U.S. 33, northwest of Ashland. He decried the potential regulations as making a “babysitter” of Hanover County. He carefully supervised his place, banning alcohol and cigarettes and keeping young gamers from playing during school hours. Even the sheriff said Bryan’s place drew no complaints.
A less monitored arcade at the Mechanicsville Shopping Center next door to Cardinal Drug raised the ire of owner Jack Ward due to “smoking and vile language.” Plus, kids flocking there impeded foot traffic, he asserted, adding, “Customers won’t want to walk through a maze of bicycles.”
In that same year, 1989, Station Break opened in a newly constructed white brick building at 904 W. Grace St. that supplanted a parking lot but also heralded the tidying up of a beloved but scruffy stretch near the Virginia Commonwealth University campus.
The arcade, under the wing of the Edison Brothers Stores franchise, offered 30 machines, including Battlezone, Galaxian and Pac-Man. By 1998, however, it was game over for Station Break.
Back at Chesterfield Mall, Funway Freeway gave way to Fun & Games, initially managed by Stanley and Paula Morris, who also ran the nearby Chesterfield Cinemas. The mall undertook a major upfit, regenerating in 1987 as Chesterfield Towne Center, replete with a diamond and palm tree logo.
Players kept coming. One Reddit commenter reminisced about scooping up change out of the mall’s fountain to “go down there and play Jurassic Park, Rush and Cruis’n USA.”
Though Fun & Games dropped out of the 1991 Suburban Directory, the arcade operated through the new decade, though under a new name, Fun Company, that lasted until 2002.
By that time, massively multiplayer online gameplay was possible on PCs, and many home console games offered more immersive storytelling, but arcades continued touting unique experiences from pinball machines to virtual reality and physical games such as Dance Dance Revolution. That legacy continues today in Richmond, thanks to efforts by DawnStar Video Games’ StarCade and the Richmond Pinball Collective and at places including The Answer Brewpub, Wax Moon records, Draftcade and Bingo Beer Co.
