NERDVENTURES: House on Forest Hill

My aunt used to have the best Halloween decorations. They were both the highlight and most dreaded part of my childhood Halloweens. I often wondered how much of the design she based solely on the elements that irked me. After all, that would explain why it began to feel like a gauntlet of my personal terrors. Usually I would just have my Mom guide me by hand to the door while I shielded my little eyes with my little dinosaur to Super Mario mitten, so that I could just sit inside the house, eyes fixed on the sounds from the window, wondering if I could dare walk back out with my lids peeled back. And when I did gaze, and there were certainly those times, it would leave my gut so shaken that I would actually consider skipping my peanut butter cups.

There were life sized dolls of dead bodies, strewn up through the trees and peeking out from under piles of leaves, their suggested wounds oozing with Scooby Doo pasta. A strobe light seemed to claw at the trees and the black gate that hugged the front yard, nay courtyard, making it the perfect candidate for such a haunt. My whole family would get into it, my grandfather, or zadie if you will, would park his twenty year old van, which if called a tin can would be a compliment, dressed up like a madman, waiting to pop out the side door to scare oncoming kids. In retrospect, that was extremely uncharacteristic of my zadie, which is a tribute to the spirit of this most blessed holiday. My uncle always stole the show though because he knew how to get me, he knew the one thing that would send me reeling. He would wait at the door in this gorilla suit, a gorilla suit that scared the soul out of me. I was so terrified of this suit that if at non-Halloween related visits, I would so happen to notice the gorilla mask to be visible in an open closet, I would dash away to the nearest floor to request a grown up to remove it from sight. My uncle loved that I hated that suit so much, I could always hear it in his gruff snicker. Even when I was past the gauntlet, sitting safely inside the undecorated interior, he would sneak up on me to initiate the jungle terror. And man, I miss the things that scared me. I miss those Halloweens.

Everything since then has felt pale in comparison, scary sound effects tape and a headless scarecrow just never cut it. It's been years since my aunt put up the grand haunted house, she said she just didn't have the energy for it anymore. As time goes on I find myself more starved for the Halloween spirit in my suburban environment. From the declining amount of TV specials to the disappearance of enthusiastic trick or treaters, year after year I worry that it may be the last year I see a bag of candy. Then last year I learned that I'm just blind as a bat. The internet, of all places, informed me that less than a block away from my current abode was in fact a delightfully, frightfully, enthusiastic haunted house.

Every Halloween night, Rachel Brown transforms 164 Old Forest Hill Rd into THE HAUNT ON THE HILL. A treat for the senses and a treat for the tricksters.

"I think I got bored of handing out candy and I was too old to trick or treat, I saw a few decorations in a store and it kind of took off from there. Now I make everything myself. I like to make everything myself, because when you go into the Halloween stores, as much fun as they are to look around, you see ten people buying the same thing and not really doing anything unique."

What was before a common home (well a common home on Old Forest Hill) becomes a graveyard, strewn with open caskets, a mad laboratory, littered with leftover skeletons, and a giant arachnid, spinning its web above the heads of visitors.

"Usually I start by fixing things I broke the previous year and making them more sturdy. Then I just get new ideas off the internet or things I've always wanted to build."

The inside of the house was not nearly as gloomy (though I bet myself I could make it look legit haunted tweaking the right settings in Windows Photo Viewer), but instead has the level of organization and cleanliness that makes me wonder how such homes are possible. She told me the bulk of decorations were in her garage. Only debatable clutter was in her living room, a skeleton, err, not literally, like a frame for some new construction. I thought about asking what it was going to turn out to be, but judging by the eight long spindly legs and large orb body, I, well, I hope you follow. It's not just in the decorations alone - anyone can nail the grim reaper to a tree and call it a day - but Rachel aims for a more specific aesthetic than just flatout flatlining kids.

"I've seen things and houses where people just take anything they think is Halloween related and throw it anywhere. Like, here's a devil and witch and a skeleton and a mummy and they're all next to each other, and there's Freddy Krueger and Jason and there's just no reason. When I put something out I make sure everything fits together, and I really think where I'm going to place them. I also like to make things that aren't necessarily going to jump out at kids because then they'll just run away and won't stay to look at everything. So it's the overall feeling of eeriness and not just something jumping out at you."

And it's not just the every day upper middle class Joes either...

"I once went to a haunted house at the EX and somebody jumped out at me and I was wearing my sunglasses on my head and they said, 'Hey nice sunglasses!' and I'm like, 'Way to break character!' My favourite haunt ever is the Haunted Mansion at Disney Land. Just because again, it's not just another dark room where there's someone about to jump out at you in costumes. The overall effect is just amazing."

It's people like Rachel that reassure me there is spirit in this holiday yet, beyond goth kid candle merchandise and sexy nurse costumes. The holiday's about the kids, because that's what kid me was all about. I remember my elementary school having us parade down the halls to show each class the costumes our parents slaved over. I remember the novelty glasses my teachers would wear almost a la Miss Frizzle.

"I don't think there's any problem with kids being scared. I have a five year old nephew and he started out being scared of everything I did but I now let him name things that I create so he's not afraid of them anymore."

So in the end, Rachel, with your dedication and hard work, after a day attacked by political correctness and paranoia, what is the true spirit of Halloween?

"The night is special because kids dress up and they're allowed to eat candy."

Amen to that.