Our friends to the North may think they have the edge on spooky Halloween fun, what with their headless horsemen and witches and whatnot.
I respectfully disagree. Down South we have bloody Civil War battlegrounds, creepy swamp lands and more haunted houses than you can swing a dead, black cat at. Plus we have more crazy people down here, and crazy people bring the Halloween EVERY SINGLE DAY.
You know what I think is the creepiest? Cemeteries. And when we visited St. Augustine, Florida earlier this year we saw a doozy of a cemetery. Tolomato Cemetery, circa 1565, has more than 1,000 burial sites and is built on top of an abandoned INDIAN VILLAGE, y'all.
When we stumbled upon it one sunny afternoon, it was closed. Jake suggested he could give me a boost over the fence so I could get better photos. I said I wasn't interested in displeasing the dead Indians, since they were probably still irate with the British for displacing them (and my uncle has discovered we are direct descendants of Anne Boleyn or some such, so I am a relative of a beheaded wife of Henry VIII. Take that, Spooky Hollow) and my zoom lens was working JUST FINE. So every time Jake got within two feet of me the rest of the day I scuttled away like a June bug from a stomping shoe.
Because some of those graves were above-ground looking. And also because Jake is the kind of guy who will hang this up by our guest bed just to scare a bunch of young girls half out of their minds:
The man loves Halloween.
Incidentally, both my girls slept in the guest room last night because the remnant winds from Sandy scared them. Not the giant, faceless ghoul in the window. The wind. Could you have slept with this thing hanging over you all night? Me either.