– Time For A Tiara: Column by Ginna Young – - We’re a tough group, we are

By Ginna Young

Every year, I’m part of a group who puts on a “walk of terror” behind Lake Holcombe School, known as the Haunted Trail. For two nights in mid-fall, we open the trail for those brave enough to trek the mile around the school forest, while they’re scared by performers and animatronics.

We recommend that children younger than 12 not attend, as there are loud noises and screams, all in almost pitch black conditions. A lot of parents bring young ones with them anyway and some as young as three years old, actually make it through the trail better than a 45-year-old man.

Point in case, the first (and only) year I was a guide, a revving chain saw startled a family; the dad ran screaming past the chain saw, leaving his wife and two young children to try to get by the “madman,” who is actually one of the nicest guys I’ve ever met. That was one of two times I broke character.

I couldn’t help it, I laughed myself sick at the poor, big, hulking, scared dad. The other was when I had to take a family around by themselves, because the girls were so terrified, they couldn’t make it as part of a group. And when I say “girls,” I’m talking at least 13 or 14 here.

They pretty much kept a vise grip on me through the whole thing, abandoning the comfort of their parents for a pure stranger, who they must have thought could save them from the ghouls and goblins. Anyway, they got so scared at one part, that they simultaneously yanked as hard as they could on my cloak, which was tied around neck, choking me and pulling me backward.

“For cryin’ out loud,” I yelled, breaking my ethereal, wisplike personna, “let go-a me, will ya!”

Like I said, that was my one and only year as a guide around the trail, but it wasn’t because of that experience. My torn knee just couldn’t take the many times around the woods, climbing up and down hills, stumbling over roots and rocks, and picking my way through mud.

So, the next year, I was on a scene and the year after that, acting out a routine as people passed my area. I knew I needed more interaction with the attendees, so the next year, I was stationed at the gate, taking tickets. In the past, if my memory serves, the guides took the tickets as they led people through, but by having someone stationed at the gate, you can have a monitor of what’s going on in that area.

After a few years of trial and error, I have it down to a science and running like clockwork. It’s fun visiting with people and learning where they’re from, if they’ve ever been on the trail before and educating them about why we hold it.

See, the trail is manned by volunteers, raising money through admission and concession stand sales, as well as donations by local businesses. Most of that money goes toward school field trips or some other want/need a class has, such as new uniforms for one of the sporting teams.

The last few years, because of the volunteer help from students outside the Lake Holcombe School District, we’ve given donations to those districts toward what they needed, such as field trips and book vending machines.

So, although you know how much I love Halloween and anything spooky, it’s even more important to me that we raise that money for the kids to get some extra things. And through the trail, I’ve made lifelong friends.

I’ve watched these little kids helping on the trail with masks or their faces fainted black, grow up and go off to college, and become parents, all because of that connection.

Last year, my little pal, Warren, 5, was left without anyone to watch him, as all family members in the area were out on the trail. Well, he could just stay with his Ninna (Aunt Ginna) at the gate. The first night, he was dressed as a little blackbird to go along with my scarecrow costume and practically charmed the pants off those in line, as he and I traded barbs, and he “pecked” at me with the felt beak on his costume.

The next night, he’d abandoned the blackbird and become a spook, actually joining his parents out on the trail and developing his own scare routine. Ever since then, he’s talked about the trail and how much fun it was.

Well, because of scheduling issues with our venue and our main area volunteers, we weren’t even sure we were going to have the trail this year. Warren, however, refused to believe we were going to have to call it off.

“We’ll have the trail and everything will be fine. Just fine.”

He was right, we were able to figure out a date that works, albeit later than we normally hold it, which will be colder than we like, but hey, we’re a tough group. I already know what I’m going to dress as and we planned the concessions menu. Now, we need the volunteers to make it happen.

If you like giving someone a good scare for a couple hours, give me a call/message. We’ve broken our attendance record multiple times, but we want to have enough workers to make it the best trail ever and have people really feel they got their money’s worth.

The trail takes place Nov. 1 and 2, giving you plenty of time to figure out a costume. Or, we’ll get one for you. Heck, even a black outfit, and gray or white painted face does the trick.

You won’t regret the good feeling helping out gives you, the camaraderie that is had between the volunteers and, if you’re like I am, the giddy feeling you get when you scare the living daylights out of someone. Don’t worry, it’s all in fun, we’ve never lost anyone yet.

Well...except for the one grandma (inside joke). Poor, poor grandma.