Our first two Halloween weekends featured the basics: Saturday afternoon pumpkin carving and apple-bobbing contests, and an evening trick-or-treat event, where dozens of little goblins hopscotched around the campground with plastic buckets, pillowcases, or trash bags in hand, collecting candy from willing campers gathered ‘round their crackling campfires. Older kids raced around in the dark, trying to scare the little ones, as they jumped, screaming, from behind trailers, tents and trees. Halloween weekend was fun for everyone, including us. It was our last big weekend before we closed in mid-November, and we liked going out with a bang. Apparently, the bigger the bang, the better, as we would soon find out.
Earlier in this, our third season, two families — friends from Philly looking to escape the stifling heat and incessant noise from the row-home neighborhood where they lived — stayed with us for a weekend. Dad, ever the inquisitor, discovered that in addition to hosting a weekly Horror Movie Matinee Show on one of the Philly TV stations, Joe and his buddy Don ran a side business doing Halloween “shows.” Without hesitating, Dad, also the king of ginning stuff up to entertain our campers, asked if they’d do a show for us that fall. Flattered, they agreed, and he booked and comped their Halloween weekend reservations for the side-by-side campsites they loved.
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When Halloween Saturday rolled around, we placed the chalkboard sign in its usual spot, outside the bathrooms, where everyone would see it.
HALLOWEEN FRIGHT NIGHT!
Frankenstein Movie — FREE!
7 PM Upstairs REC Room
At mid-afternoon, upstairs, and with Joe’s help, Dad loaded reel one of FRANKENSTEIN! into our projector, testing it out before showtime. The movie flickered to life and we adjusted our cheap-ass movie screen, wedged into the corner by the door. Eddie and I loaded in some extra chairs and benches, and the stage was set for our first-ever Halloween Fright Night. We became excited about the event, especially since we were in on the big secret.
Around 6:45 pm, a crowd lined up on the stairs. By 7 pm, campers filled every folding chair, picnic bench and most of the floor. Kids outnumbered adults in the room, and the crowd pulsed with anticipation about watching FRANKENSTEIN on a big screen. It felt like being in a movie theater, as Dad asked Joe to introduce the movie.
“FRANKENSTEIN is one of the all-time greatest horror movies ever made,” said Joe, in his best TV announcer voice. “Boris Karloff plays the great monster, and I can assure you, this movie will make you scream. HAHAHAHAHA!” he cackled in an evil tone, as Dad started the movie and Eddie turned out the lights.
In the dark, the grainy black & white film flickered on the screen. Kids and parents settled in for the show, slurping sodas and beers, eating chips from small bags and candy from Trick-or-Treat stashes. Dad watched from the back, near the projector; Eddie watched from the front, near the light switches; I watched from the other side of the door.
“It’s ALIVE. It’s ALIVE!” cried Dr. Frankenstein, the mad scientist, as the monster began to move. All eyes in the room were glued to the screen. All ears were tuned in to the speakers.
As the movie continued, we became completely engrossed and increasingly anxious. We screamed when the monster escaped; we gasped when the monster threw little Maria into the lake, where she drowned. We cheered when the village mob called for revenge.
At the scene near the end, where the angry mob, racing with burning torches and barking dogs, chases the monster into the windmill and batters at the heavy wooden door, trying to break it down, we heard a sudden loud pounding on our own wooden door.
“BANG! BANG! BANG!”
With a rush of cold air, a flash of light, and the jarring sound of chains clanging and heavy boots clomping on the ground, FRANKENSTEIN roared into our lives.
“ARRRRRGGGGGGHHHHH!” he bellowed, lurching into the room, triggering screams of terror and panic. He lunged forward, rattling, grunting, menacing.
Kids shrieked and dove under tables. Lights flashed on and off. Our Frankenstein lunged again, reaching for throats. Adults scrambled to calm the littlest kids, as the fear crescendo’d and the movie climaxed in the background. On screen, the monster threw Dr. Frankenstein over the rooftop edge, where he was saved by the windmill. The fire blazed, and the monster screamed as he burned in agony.
In our now-real-life-version-of-the-movie, Our Frankenstein reached the back of the room, tried to choke Dad, then Joe, before completing his reign of terror. With another flash of light, he turned and stomped back past the crowd, now fearfully huddled along the perimeter. Our Frankenstein roared one final time before disappearing into the darkness, the door slamming behind, all of us gasping for air, as the film rattled “The End.”
This sounds absolutely terrifying! But an excellent "show."