Janelle Irwin Taylor
Multiple times in the past few days I have had someone mention to me that they completely forgot about Halloween this year.
The Facebook page for the Crescent Heights neighborhood announced earlier this month that it was canceling its trademark block party due to debris still lingering from Hurricanes Helene and Milton and some residents still struggling to rebuild after catastrophic devastation.
To be clear, grace should be shown to anyone who has suffered or is still suffering from either or both hurricanes, and anyone who is unable to participate this year, either at all or in a more limited capacity, gets an absolute pass on that.
But I cannot emphasize this enough: We need Halloween. Our kids — big or small — need Halloween.
We need sugary candy. We need a good jump scare. We need a neighborhood stroll on a not-so-random Thursday. We need Monster Mash and scary movies and skeleton-themed snacks. We need a beer with a neighbor and the smiles from tired parents glad their kids are experiencing something normal and fun. We ALL need normality and fun.
The past month has been brutal, on everyone. While some have had it worse — way worse in some cases — our Tampa Bay area community is tired. We are beaten down and exasperated. We’re heartbroken for our personal losses, or by losses surrounding us that touch our hearts. We’ve been schlepping debris for what feels like weeks on end and, when we’re not putting our own flood ravaged or wind battered homes back together, we’re helping our neighbors. We’re showing the best in humanity, at a time when polarization seems to dominate.
And even though we’ve all seen the best in our neighbors through this tragic process, we need a distraction from the debris piles and photos of hollow walls that have become a trademark of flood damage. We need a break from insurance adjusters and the sound of chainsaws. We need a reminder that life in this community is full of fun.
Florida Politics Publisher Peter Schorsch has always gotten excited about Halloween and, even though I personally tend to groan when he asks — I take myself too seriously sometimes — his staff makes sure to have some fun with Halloween-themed stories for our readers who, at this point in the year, usually need the lighthearted touch.
One year, I penned a snarky post poking fun at safety recommendations from the state that included, among other obvious tips, to make sure your kid remembers their name. Another year I speculated about the unspoken battle between Historic Old Northeast and Crescent Heights for the most Halloweeny Halloween.
It’s been hard to get into the Halloween spirit this year. And that Crescent Heights announcement is a stark reminder that, no matter how much we need or want it, Halloween is going to be different this year.
But while some folks might not be able to take the 10-foot skeleton out of storage or set up an elaborate zombie-themed yard display, it’s been exciting to see those people who are doing their best to un-dead Halloween this year.
Take the house near Old Northeast and Crescent Heights that made their yard a “St. Pete Strong” display, with plastic skeletons posed in various positions in a true post-hurricane-theme. There are skeleton parts strewn about and a skeleton worker picking up the pieces. Another skeleton appears to have been blown into a tree.
Along Grand Central this past weekend, businesses did a great job of setting up for the annual block party, complete with plenty of Beetlejuice references, including the menacing sandworms. You hate ‘em, right? I hate ‘em myself.
And in Historic Old Northeast, hosts went ahead with their October Porch Party, an adults-only extravaganza that included “floor-to-ceiling haunting Halloween decorations.”
So this year, I hope you all will take a little bit of time to put down the power tools and yard gloves and hit the streets with your kids for some good ole fashioned trick-or-treating. Wear the costume. Eat the candy (sorry, “check” the candy). Jump out of the coffin. And kids, have so much fun. Take that pillowcase out of the closet and fill it to the brim, whether you’re 5 or 15.
On Nov. 1, I want to see social media flooded with pictures of smiling Disney Princesses, ghouls and goblins, tiny ghosts, witches and vampires with sticky fingers and sugar highs. I want to see grown-ups having fun. I want to see normal, if just for a moment.
Because healing is so much easier when we take an excuse for a break. The past several weeks have been scary. Halloween doesn’t have to be.
