Tristan Sacrey says he reached rock bottom five years ago.
He went through a breakup, lost his job and had to move back in with his mom, and he was still trying to process the death of his father two years earlier.
His therapist urged him to find something that would help him feel connected to his dad. Shortly after that, Sacrey’s mom found his childhood collection of Scooby-Doo books in the basement. Immediately, the memories flooded in.
“It was the deepest, darkest depression of my existence,” he says. “It was like this spotlight shined down. I was like, ‘What’s that over there? Scooby-Doo.’”
Sacrey remembers going to Blockbuster with his dad, who’d always let him choose a Scooby-Doo movie. One Halloween, his dad bought him a wizard costume to match a plush wizard Scooby-Doo doll.
The memories propelled Sacrey to commemorate their relationship with a “Scooby room” in his Brampton, Ont., apartment filled with more than 1,000 pieces of merchandise emblazoned with the famous Great Dane and his gang.
Collectors like Sacrey — who treasure hunt across the province for items to add to their niche collections — say it’s not just about accumulating objects.
Their collections are life changing, they say. The prized items evoke joy, nostalgia, comfort, entertainment — and most of all, community.
In Paris, Ont., Charlotte Bakker’s home has become a sanctuary for hundreds of dolls.
They sit shoulder-to-shoulder in rocking chairs, on glass shelves, and inside cabinets. Dressed in fancy outfits, they are meticulously arranged in front of porcelain tea sets and in the driver’s seats of toy cars. Many of them are “reborns” — realistic, detailed dolls emulating infants, with rosy cheeks, shiny eyes and curly hair.
Bakker has loved dolls ever since her mother gave her one when she was seven years old, but her collection officially began in 1983 when her husband won her a doll at a local auction. Since then, it’s become “an addiction,” she says, one that people can’t believe.
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“If you’re not into it, then you don’t understand,” she says, showing off three lifelike dolls laying in a baby carriage.
Bakker says she and her husband custom-built a loft in their home specifically for her collection. Its floor is covered with dolls and she walks carefully around them.
“My husband doesn’t want them all over the place,” she laughs, adding that he accompanies her to various doll shows in Canada and the U.S., helping her sell dolls to other enthusiasts.
A big grin overtakes her face as she gestures toward a display case filled with tiny figurines.
“I love it, it makes me feel good, it makes me feel happy,” she says, noting that she particularly loves the dolls’ artistry and craftsmanship.
She adds that she’s formed strong friendships with many other local doll lovers over the years, even inheriting another collector’s pieces.
Bakker and Sacrey say community is one of the biggest driving forces behind their collections. For David Steckley, it might just be the favourite part of his hunt for more than 5,500 licence plates over the course of 60 years.
Steckley’s rainbow of provincial licence plates — some with rusted edges and others in mint condition — wallpapers the basement of his Acton, Ont., home. Ontario has issued all sorts of plates over the years with different colours, shapes and materials, he explains.
Among his proudest pieces are Canadian licence plates made during the world wars, and even one of the first licence plates ever issued in Ontario — a leather flap with metal numbers made in 1903, one of only 13 known to exist, he says.
Steckley says he chases plates across the province at conventions, swap meets, garage sales and on eBay. He also hosts an annual meeting in Ontario for collectors who are just as ecstatic about the motor vehicle markers as he is.
“Well, I suppose to a layperson, they would look at us as somewhat … eclectic, strange or weird?” says Steckley, who’s been tracking down plates since 1959. “We say we share the same affliction.”
Steckley says his induction into the Automobile License Plate Collectors Association Hall of Fame last year exemplifies his passion for the hobby.
“I get a kick out of it, just because of all the stories and trips and searches and deal-making that one makes to put a collection together.”
Meanwhile, Sacrey’s Scooby room, complete with a blue shag rug and neon green and orange paint, is a haven for any lover of the cartoon.
Shelves filled with Scooby-Doo DVDs, children’s books, themed Barbie dolls and platform-heeled Mystery Machine Crocs line the walls. Scooby-Doo wallets, posters, backpacks and even a fishing rod hang on another wall, while a glass case in the corner displays cups, mugs, bowls and a can of Heinz pasta featuring the cartoon characters.
When asked about the most unique item in the collection, Sacrey holds up a metal object he bought at the Woodstock Toy Expo the previous week. It’s a Scooby-Doo car hitch, used to attach a trailer to the back of a car.
But of all his items, a one-of-a-kind piece is the most special.
It’s a photo of Sacrey’s late father solo riding a Scooby-Doo themed roller-coaster at Canada’s Wonderland in 2003, when Sacrey had been too scared to go on it. His mother found the photo a couple of months ago and for Sacrey, “it felt like closure.”
“Everyone needs something to hold on to. For me, I needed to hold on to my dad in a way that wasn’t hurting me,” he says. “If I’m having a bad day, I can just swing the door open and just be hit with the best version of myself … like I’m experiencing moments with my dad that I thought I lost.”
“It’s my childhood on a platter. There is so much joy, so much happiness, so many memories.”
Standing between a Scooby-Doo suitcase and a Christmas tree adorned with Mystery Inc., ornaments, Sacrey says the collection changed his life.
It sparked a relationship with his partner, Brad, who is also a Scooby-Doo lover. The pair met on a dating app during the COVID-19 pandemic, where Sacrey’s profile photo had shown him wearing a Scooby-Doo-themed mask, which prompted their first messages.
“Brad was like, ‘It’s so funny that you’re wearing a mask, because usually they unmask the villains at the end of the show!’” Sacrey laughs, adding that Brad gave him a Scooby-Doo keychain as a gift on their first date.
Their shared love for the cartoon fuels their adventures, from thrift stores to antique malls to toy conventions across Ontario, Sacrey says, always looking for more coveted items to add to the room.
Sacrey has amassed more than 60,000 TikTok followers by sharing the collection online and showing off the couple’s “Scooby hunts.” He’s received countless messages from other fans of the franchise, with some even sending packages of Scooby-Doo items from their own childhoods.
“This has been the most important thing I’ll ever do. At the same time, it hasn’t even started,” says Sacrey.
