Halloween Dusk

When those kids start knocking while the sun's still up...

Trick Or Treat

Got a very cool birthday gift a few months ago - a Fuji Instax Square camera.  

The Devil Made Me Do It

I entered a costume contest that was held in my grade school when I was in first or second grade. I was The Devil. Not some cool homemade sewn costume like a lot of the kids were sporting, but rather a cheap store-bought variety: a plastic mask and a vinyl/flame retardant outfit - the "shirt" displaying an image of the Devil himself. That part of those costumes I never understood. Why not make the outfit simply be the body/costume of the Devil? Meanwhile it was more like Lucifer was wearing a t-shirt sporting an image of Lucifer. (Same goes for Batman costumes - it was never his chest plate/armor back then. It was always Batman wearing a costume with an image of Batman on it.)  Dumb.

So there I was in a Halloween parade marching around the school yard wearing my Old Scratch costume carrying a cool plastic pointy trident. I KNEW I was going to win first place. I have no idea what made me so convinced I'd be winning the prize for best costume (probably the Devil). The teacher walked slowly by the rows of children studying the costumes, pretending to make it a hard decision. Then she approached me. 

ME. 

I remember being nervous and panicked at the prospect of winning.  I was already planning my acceptance speech.  Probably something fun and light, with a few jabs of the pitchfork in the air towards my cheering classmates, just to let them know I was cool, yet humble and grounded. 

Then she reached out and touched the shoulder of the kid next to me - wearing a homemade hand-sewn dinosaur costume. You know the one - big long tail, spikes running down the back, a face hole where the pointed toothy mouth should be... his mother made it of course.

Somewhere in the crowd of noisy, screaming kids, I'm certain I heard The Devil laughing his horns off.

Nightmare On Elm Avenue

For five years, Michael Myers stood watch over the corner of Elm Avenue and Brook Drive in Churchville.

Not the real one, of course, but a life-size mannequin of the iconic horror villain that quietly became one of Bucks County’s more unlikely neighborhood landmarks, writes Jo Ciavaglia for Bucks County Courier Times.

What started as a Halloween display by resident Jim Cole eventually took on a life of its own.

The life-sized figure never really left for the off-season; instead, Cole dressed him for Thanksgiving, Valentine’s Day, St. Patrick’s Day, and July Fourth.

The neighborhood took notice. Residents started using the mannequin as a navigation landmark. Children tracked his seasonal wardrobe changes. Strangers pulled over to snap photos.

“People look out for Mike,” Cole said. “People use it for directions, I heard. ‘See Mike Myers and turn left.’”

However, not all residents have been so enthused.

Earlier this year, a couple photographed the display, and Northampton Township officials later informed Cole that anchoring the mannequin to a street sign violated township ordinances. Mike had to come down, relocated back to the family’s property.

The backlash was swift. Hundreds of commenters flooded social media to express their disappointment and rally around the fan-favorite Halloween display.

For now, the mannequin stands on the Cole family’s porch, displaced but not retired, while the family weighs options for a more visible home.

The article here.

Galloping Hessian Of The Hollow

Photos from the Annual Tarrytown Halloween Parade.  It's not often that a headless horseman costume looks so believable.  You can usually see the proportions are a little off due to the raised shoulders attempting to hide the human head of the wearer.  But, man, this looks really REALLY good.  And that gorgeous horse seals the deal.

Images by K_Marsh.

The Shape

Sported my new Myers mask (Cemetery Gate Production's WARLOCK) this Halloween and I'd have to say that I've never felt more like him.  People seemed extra unnerved.  One child was shouting up from the sidewalk asking Michael Audrey Myers if he was going to kill him.  I did the Myers head tilt and his family laughed and screamed.  They eventually came up, and I could tell they were really creeped out and uncomfortable.  So after handing them candy, and as they were leaving, I stepped out onto the porch (something I rarely do).  They definitely weren't expecting that and the mom shrieked.  This caused the child, and his family, to run towards the sidewalk.  In what seemed like a moment from a Scooby-Doo cartoon, one of the handles on his trick-or-treat bag caught onto the foot of the staked corpse at the entry to the porch.  He didn't know what snagged him, but I could tell he thought it was me, as he wasn't looking back.  He screamed and left the bag dangling from the corpse's foot.  Michael Myers silently removed the bag, straightened the corpse, and looked up.  The boy was coming back.  I handed him his bag and he whispered "Thank you, Michael" and ran off.

It was one of those incredible Halloween moments that make this holiday so absolutely wonderful.

What a night.

It's Time, Michael

When you finally buy that Myers mask that you've always wanted...

Witchy

Yes kids, you too can own one of the big Halloween three. 
That's right, THREE horrific masks to chose from. 
They're fun.
They're frightening,
and they GLOW in the dark.

Image by Nikita Mikhailov.

The Order Of The Halloween Tree

A photo series tribute to Ray Bradbury's classic tale.

This series comes to an end with Chapter 6:  Ralph Bengstrum 

Ralph stood in his Mummy costume, stunned, watching the last shadows go.

“Is that why I’m dressed like a mummy?” He fingered the bandages. He touched his clay-wrinkled ancient face. “Is that what my part of Halloween is all about?”

“All, boy, all,” murmured Moundshroud. “The Egyptians, why, they built to last. Ten thousand years they planned for. Tombs, boys, tombs. Graves.  Mummies. Bones. Death, death. Death was at the very heart, gizzard, light, soul, and body of their life! Tombs and more tombs with secret passages, so none might be found, so grave robbers could not borrow souls and toys and gold. You are a mummy, boy, because that was how they dressed for Eternity.  Spun up in a cocoon of threads, they hoped to come forth like lovely butterflies in some far dear loving world. Know your cocoon, boy. Touch the strange stuffs.”

 

“Why,” said Ralph the Mummy, blinking at the smoky walls and old hieroglyphics. “Every day was Halloween to them!"

The Order Of The Halloween Tree

A photo series tribute to Ray Bradbury's classic tale.

Chapter 4:  The Devil Boy

"But, let me introduce myself! Moundshroud is the name.  Carapace Clavicle Moundshroud. Does that have a ring, boys? Does it sound for you?”
  
It sounds, the boys thought, oh, oh, it sounds … !

Moundshroud.

“A fine name,” said Mr. Moundshroud, giving it a full sepulchral night-church sound. “And a fine night. And all the deep dark wild long history of Halloween waiting to swallow us whole!”

“Swallow us?”

“Yes!” cried Moundshroud. “Lads, look at yourselves. Why are you, boy, wearing that Skull face? And you, boy, carrying a scythe, and you, lad, made up like a Witch? And you, you, you!” He thrust his bony finger at each mask. “You don’t know, do you? You just put on those faces and old mothball clothes and jump out, but you don’t really know, do you?”

“Well,” said Tom, a mouse behind his skull-white muslin. “Er—no.”

“Yeah,” said the Devil boy. “Come to think of it, Why am I wearing this?” He fingered his cloak and sharp rubber horns and lovely pitchfork.

The Order Of The Halloween Tree

A photo series tribute to Ray Bradbury's classic tale.

Chapter 3:  Henry-Hank Smith

Fires burned all over Europe. At every crossroad and by every haystack dark forms jumped in cats across flames. Cauldrons bubbled. Old hags cursed. Dogs frolicked red-hot coals.

“Witches, witches, everywhere,” said Tom, amazed. “I never knew they were so many!”

“Mobs and multitudes, Tom. Europe was flooded to the dikes. Witches underfoot, under bed, in the cellars and high attics.”

“Boy oh boy,” said Henry-Hank, proud in his Witch costume. “Real witches!

The Order Of The Halloween Tree

A photo series tribute to Ray Bradbury's classic tale.

Chapter 2:  George Smith

In the west, the sun, smothered and dying in clouds, sank. Moundshroud hooted his delight:

“There it goes, boys. The heart, soul, and flesh of Halloween. The Sun! There Osiris is murdered again. There sinks Mithras, the Persian fire. There falls Phoebus Apollo all Grecian light. Sun and flame, boys. Look and blink. Turn that crystal spyglass. Swing it down the Mediterranean Coast a thousand miles. See the Greek Isles?”

“Sure,” said plain George Smith, dressed up as fancy pale ghost. “Cities, towns, streets, houses. People jumping out on porches to bring food!”

“Yes.” Moundshroud beamed. “Their Festival of the Dead: the Feast of Pots. Trick-or-Treat old style. But tricks from the dead if you don’t feed them. So treats are laid out in fine banquets on the sill!”

The Order Of The Halloween Tree

A photo series tribute to Ray Bradbury's classic tale.

Chapter 1:  Tom Skelton

Tom Skelton shivered. Anyone could see that the wind was a special wind this night, and the darkness took on a special feel because it was All Hallows’ Eve. Everything seemed cut from soft black velvet or gold or orange velvet.  Smoke panted up out of a thousand chimneys like the plumes of funeral parades. From kitchen windows drifted two pumpkin smells: gourds being cut, pies being baked.  

The cries behind the locked house doors grew more exasperated as shadows of boys flew by windows. Half-dressed boys, greasepaint on their cheeks; here a hunchback, there a medium-sized giant. Attics were still being rummaged, old locks broken, old steamer chests disemboweled for costumes.

Tom Skelton put on his bones.

He grinned at the spinal cord, the ribcage, the kneecaps stitched white on black cotton.

Lucky! he thought. What a name you got! Tom Skelton. Great for Halloween! Everyone calls you Skeleton! So what do you wear?

Bones.

Recycling

I remember the night I ripped off the horrid pumpkin head that was glued to my face with knox gelatin.  It was euphoric.  My neck was no longer in a vulture position and the air was cool and crisp on my soaking-wet head.  Thankfully I didn't punt the pumpkin out into the street or stomp it into my parents' carpet.  We actually repurposed it into our Pumpkin King prop (you can still kinda see the dent from where the head hole was [and where my miserable face was]).  

Looks much better on him.

Old School

More images here.

Hermit, Waterlogged Variant

Such a neat design from Immortal Masks.  Would look really cool as part of a Witch display.

Click here to see more.

Capture Rabbit

Great photography here.  I laughed when I saw at the top of the IG account the words "Before you ask it’s Not AI."  That stuff seems to be everywhere now.  

More images here.

Halloween In The 90s

Some old photos.

Second one isn't as cringe.  Myers in the middle is actually kind of spooky with all those shadows.

Invisible

There were excited cries of "Hold him!" "Invisible!" and so forth, and a young fellow, a stranger in the place whose name did not come to light, rushed in at once, caught something, missed his hold, and fell over the constable's prostrate body. Half-way across the road a woman screamed as something pushed by her; a dog, kicked apparently, yelped and ran howling into Huxter's yard, and with that the transit of the Invisible Man was accomplished. For a space people stood amazed and gesticulating, and then came panic, and scattered them abroad through the village as a gust scatters dead leaves.

- H. G. Wells

Image by ericcrofton.

The Halloween School Bus Massacre

It happened thirty years ago, on a late Halloween afternoon.  A school bus was on its usual route, but this wasn’t your typical school bus… and they weren’t your typical kids. There were eight of them, and they were… different… troubled… disturbed.