“Like Scoob, Halloween should be more about candy and less about scary monsters.”
King Solomon himself could not have uttered truer insight regarding last October’s entanglements. However, with a little resourcefulness, Jason and I held the microbe monsters at a distance while keeping the holiday fun close at hand and the sugar ubiquitous.
Jason and I debated the best way to approach trick-or-treating with 2020’s difficulties. On one hand, we didn’t want to be responsible for the proliferation of a potentially serious disease. On the other hand, we did want to be responsible for the proliferation of Halloween amusement. Turning off the porch lights and throwing in the treat towel was considered, but ultimately, we decided to let eerie merriments proceed with precautions.
Utilizing a slide that forced social distancing, we found a favorable balance between being conscientious citizens and cool citizens.
Our slick solution? Jason constructed a six-foot candy slide, which we decorated together. On Halloween evening, we hung out on our porch wearing costumes, masks, and gloves ready to serve all the small scroungers. In keeping with our Scooby-Doo theme, we handed out retro candy from the 70s like Pop Rocks, Whatchamacallits, Ring Pops, and Laffy Taffy. (“Handed” doesn’t imply our uncovered hands were involved. Geeze! What do you think this was, 2019?)
How did our slippery plan go? It turns out, kids prefer the slide method to non-slide routes of candy acquisition. Who knew? And although we were outside for hours, I stayed cozy in my Scooby skin. Treat dispersal success!
Eating appetizing foods that sound unappetizing is one of a hundred things I love about Halloween.
As an interesting social observation, the carefulness of the trick-or-treaters we encountered varied considerably from unmasked hordes to distantly concealed recluses. Some kids clearly were being driven around by cautious parents and were only allowed to go to houses deemed “safe.” We were happy to be amongst these.
Jason and I didn’t just celebrate the holiday by chuting treats. We also made a Halloween feast for ourselves of breadstick bones and ghostly chowder. Gobbling crunchy body parts and flavorsome spirits is one of our warped seasonal traditions.
Despite COVID’s attempts to quell Halloween’s diversions, sliding out some old-fashioned sweetness still made the freaks emerge, and 2020’s scourge didn’t stop us from shooting a mass of bones and savory apparitions into our bellies.
How do you throw a Halloween party safely during a pandemic? Jeepers! Looks like we’ve got a mystery on our hands!
We manned a table in our front yard for over six hours.
Being an incorrigible planner, early in the summer I was already working on a backup strategy for our annual Halloween party in the event the pandemic was still causing commotion in October, even though the idea seemed ludicrous at the time. If COVID was still rampant, squishing 100 people inside our house would be a nightmare in a non-Elm-Street way. In an a-ha moment, I realized the easiest means of keeping attendees away from each other was literally separate them. The perfect way to do that? A Scooby-Doo-style mystery that would lead them to different spots in the area. However, for this scheme to happen, first I needed a mystery.
We supplied detective essentials.
I wanted my mystery’s storyline to have tangible and interactive elements. Of course, a creepy cemetery had to be involved along with a man in a mask. I began doing local historical research and discovered an abundant supply of bizarre facts. It turns out, Utah was as wild as the rest of the Wild West back in the 1800s with murders and peculiar happenings aplenty.
Ghostly or just greedy?
I overlayed a foundation of the factually uncanny with a fabricated case of my own making, with a little help from Jason. In total, the mystery, which I named The Specter of Sulphur Springs, involved nine stops. One of these, the Hutchings Museum, was reserved in totality just for us.
Some clues could be uncovered from observing surroundings.
We hired five exceptional actors to portray suspects and present clues. These topnotch artists were only available due to the closure of institutes like Disneyland and the Utah Shakespearean Festival. Clues came in the form of puzzle boxes, handwritten notes, newspaper clippings, interrogations, and even candy. Obtaining them required dexterity, brainpower, and sometimes fancy footwork.
Some clues were hidden inside puzzles. Yup, we are high class!
Jason and I set up operations in our yard during the event to feed, equip, and inform families before they began their quests. In order to maintain separation, we assigned arrival slots to attendees at 15-minute intervals. These slots began at 1:00 p.m. By the time we got all groups on their way, Jason and I only had about 10 minutes to reorganize before units started arriving back from their adventures. Basically, Jason and I were outside assisting groups from 1:00 p.m. until exactly 7:16 p.m. Luckily, the weather was ideal. The next day, a storm came through dropping the mid-sixties down to a high of 36 and a low of 15. Jinkies!
Behold Champions’ Corner!
Theme-appropriate fare was offered via the Donut Kabobs food truck and subs from Jimmy John’s, 72 subs in total. Additionally, we supplied 48 bags of chips, 36 cookies, 30 bags of nuts, 24 Pocky sticks, 24 fruit sticks, and dozens of chilled drinks. Like, you can’t solve a mystery on an empty stomach.
Those that got reasonably close to solving the mystery received a game. Those that didn’t clearly forgot to eat their Scooby Snacks, so those were provided instead.
We topped tables in our garage with prizes and party favors and only opened the garage door to expose “Champions’ Corner” when distributing these. The kids loved the grand reveal.
We had two photographers and one videographer scattered throughout the stops.
Yes, we still held our costume and horrorable movie contests but with substantial modifications so they could be completed entirely online. Between those changes and the other altered aspects of the event, the necessary instructions, to-dos, and to-don’t were so complicated we decided to make a short film to cover all of them rather than resolve an endless stream of questions and confusion.
Does Gavin Aiken rhyme with Kevin Bacon? Why yes it does!
How did planning this affair compare to our usual party responsibilities? More creatively intimidating and logistically challenging but less time-consuming. Writing a storyline, producing character backstories, forming clues, and devising puzzling ways for those clues to be acquired both daunted and enthused me. While I handled the majority of those endeavors, Jason set up a website system to direct groups through the hunt. There were 120 items on our to-do list this year. That’s a new record, but without most of the decorating, the to-dos were less arduous.
Facilitated by the nice weather, groups stretched out in the park while deciphering evidence.
With the uncertainties of COVID, we were expecting our usual guest count of around 100 to drop to about 50-60. With the timeslots, we couldn’t accommodate more than about 65; we were gambling on the accuracy of our guess. Fortunately, our estimate was correct. Our attendees totaled 53, so we had enough openings for all.
Every case needs a list of suspects.
What did we not estimate right? The mystery proceeded smoothly with one hiccup: we miscalculated the quickness of our solvers. It took groups much longer to decipher clues than we anticipated. I guess when you already know the answer, it takes a lot less time to come up with the answer.
Like, we don’t go anywhere with scary, spooky, haunted, or forbidden in the title.
Friends and family, thank you for joining us for a groovy non-gathering gathering! If only all of 2020’s cases could be solved with just a bit of taffy, a couple sweet dance moves, a few observations, and some meddling kids.
Loss is on all our minds right now. We grieve the lives we are missing and the lives that have been lost. As a nation and a world, we mourn 2020 and what it has taken from us. It seems an appropriate time to reflect on grief and how we can help others through it.
Why am I somewhat qualified to offer a few insights on this subject? Several years ago, one of Jason’s young siblings passed away unexpectedly. When someone dies suddenly many decades early, shock and anger compound sorrow. The weight of lost time and opportunities feels heavy and unmanageable. It is an excruciating and depleting experience. I was recently reminded of that traumatic event when one of my grandmas died. A full life had been lived in her case, and the sadness of the situation was not jarring. However, not being able to hug fraught relatives or attend the funeral in person due to COVID made the grief more isolating than usual. Those circumstance led me to again ponder what we can do better to comfort others who are mourning. I believe most people want to help those they care about cope with loss, but often they don’t understand how. May the list below, inspired by what I learned a few years ago, provide some ideas:
1. Supporting Members Don’t Get Much Support
A startling and tragic death, like that of a young person, usually elicits an outpouring of support from others. However, that support is often disproportionately focused on the parents or spouse. While those people certainly need and deserve extensive care, they typically aren’t the only ones struggling. Grief also hits siblings, grandparents, cousins, friends, etc.
Further, those supporting family members have to sustain their relatives too crushed by grief to function. They are the ones carrying most of the weight of emotionally exhausting and time intensive funeral preparations. They are the ones diligently looking out for those at the apex of grief even though their own reserves are depleted, but too often few are looking out for them.
What Might Help?
Remember, grief is less like an established river and more like a floodplain. Its impact is often widespread, and those drowning aren’t always obvious. Spread your care out a little.
2. Death Is Unappetizing
When the dreadful surprise of a death hits, you don’t eat, but you don’t even remember that you haven’t. Additionally, grocery shopping and other everyday tasks get jumbled by the grief-stricken brain. Even if you thought to eat, you might not have anything to consume.
Jason dropped seven pounds in the week following his sibling’s death, and I lost 11. Even after that initial plunge, my weight continued to dip for weeks. I’m sure this is a common occurrence for many amidst sorrow.
Jason’s parents were provided more meals by kind souls than they knew what to do with. Not a single meal poured into us, and yet, we weren’t eating. This goes back to my previous section and remembering that it isn’t just those at the epicenter of a death who may be devasted by it.
What Might Help?
Give a mourning friend a Grubhub gift card or drop off a meal. Consider taking them some groceries.
3. Death Is Exhausting
After a shocking death, you don’t sleep. Compound that with the emotional fatigue of loss and the taxing nature of arranging a funeral, and you hit a new level of mental and corporal weariness.
What Might Help?
If your grieving friend or family member has kids, take the kids for an afternoon so he/she can rest.
4. Death Is Distracting
I don’t know how to convey this properly to those who have never experienced it. It happens with all deaths, but with traumatic deaths it is much more pronounced. Daily routines and everyday tasks, which don’t generally require conscious thought, become habits from some other lifetime. You don’t remember to put gas in the car, buy food, put food in your mouth, shower, change your clothes, etc.
What Might Help?
Run the errands for a grieving friend or coworker that have been neglected. Also, be patient with them. Don’t expect them to be on their A game for weeks or possibly even months.
Loss is part of the human experience, yet we are often unsure how to help others through it.
5. Death Is Expensive
Funerals are pricey, typically at least $10,000-$15,000. For a family not anticipating that expense, it can be an overwhelming burden at an already destressing time.
What Might Help?
If you have the means, considering contributing a small amount to help pay for funeral costs. Also, do your family a favor and have your own funeral fund in place just in case. Then, you won’t leave this weight in the wake of your own passing.
6. Death Is Isolating
Upon returning to work after his sibling’s death, Jason found people avoided him. They didn’t know what to say, so they didn’t say anything at all. This made hard days much worse.
What Might Help?
Don’t avoid those who have experienced a jolting loss just because finding the right words is tough. It only serves to make them feel even more isolated and alone in their grief. Be willing to make yourself a bit uncomfortable to comfort them.
7. Death Lingers
There is no expiration date on grief. There is no timeline. Death comes fast at first and then slow. Months or years later, something may remind you of your deceased loved one and sorrow engulf you without warning.
What Might Help?
Don’t forget someone may be gripped by a death for weeks, months, or even years. Don’t let your support be only temporary.
8. Vague Help Doesn’t Help
If you sincerely want to help someone grieving, don’t just tell them to let you know if they need anything. Vague offers of assistance are unlikely to ever be utilized.
What Might Help?
Suggest specifics. Tell a mourner you’ll bring them a meal or take their kids for a day. Tell them you’ll handle their work project.
9. COVID Conceals Loss
Losing a loved one during a pandemic is a strange experience. COVID complicates grief. You can’t give a comforting hug, and you often can’t even attend a funeral. You have to think about social distancing at a time when it’s hard to think at all.
What Might Help?
You may be separated from your grieving comrades, but don’t get so lost in your own walls that you forget about them. COVID is detaching enough. Don’t let those coping with loss in the midst of it feel even more alone.
Saying goodbye is hard, whether it be the ache of missing a beloved parental figure or the raw jolt of having many years snatched away from someone still at the beginning of their life. While every circumstance is unique and each person experiences grief differently, I hope my insights help you convey care to others mourning.
As a related final note, may those of you who have lost a loved one to COVID feel surrounded by support and love even in this disjointing time. The nation mourns with you.
Recent Comments