A Thriller Night

The calendar says November; is it safe to breath now? The past fortnight (that's two weeks, in Shakespeare-speak) has been a big ol' heaping whirlwind of candy, trips to Sam's Club, and mechanical monster assembly. So, now that the 8th Annual St. Frances Academy Community Center Halloween Party (yes, that's a mouthful, but so is a $5 foot-long...and America loves its foot-longs) has come and gone, I'm going to make like a baseball player who puts his hat on twice and RE-CAP. (Get it?)

This Halloween bash was one of the first things I remember being stressed to me when I started at SFA. Mr. Moore told me he wanted it "Boffo," which, according to him, is a hybrid of the terms over-the-top and out-of-this-world (I'm still looking for "Boffo" in the dictionary). Anyway, for about two-to-three weeks (hey, anyone notice I just used 7 hyphens in the previous two sentences? Is there a hyphen limit in the English language that I should be aware of?) leading up to Halloween, I was basically in charge of preparing for the day while Mr. Moore secured the finances needed to pull off the event.

So there I was, digging through old boxes filled with fake rats, light-up skeletons, and gigantic spiders, trying to figure out a way to feng-shui a multi-purpose room and gymnasium into the spookiest rooms this side of St. Paul Street. And as I assembled a grim-looking groom who held his bride's severed head, I thought, "My job could be a lot worse."

10 a.m. Saturday morning. I had just spent the last 11 out of 12 days at the Community Center- so hey? what's two more?- (two more hyphens, by the way), and the game was on. I spent most of the day setting up the haunted house, directing the volunteers, and making sure the guy with no head was standing up straight (he tended to lean to the side a bit, no doubt caused by the extra weight of having to hold his own head. Poor guy.) By 3:30, we were sitting pretty. The gym looked smashing, the house looked haunted, and Mr. Moore and I looked excited, if not a little tired.

By 4;30, there was a line of kids lined up outside the front door. After assigning the 100 volunteers to their roles for the night, we opened the doors, and in flowed a grand assortment of witches, supermans, and ninjas. The neighborhood kids had come out in full force in their best costumes, looking for some candy and a good time. When it really comes down to it, aren't we all looking for some candy and a good time?

From then on, the night was a blur. Mr. Moore and I quickly changed into our Michael Jackson costumes. At 5:30, we made our grand entrance, walking out onto the balcony overlooking the gym floor to the tune of "Thriller," by the King of Pop himself. After showcasing our awkward-if-not-hearfelt moonwalking moves, we spent the rest of the night in our Jericurl wigs and pleather jackets. We floated around the place for the rest of the evening, working to ensure everything went smoothly and that everyone had a smashing good time.

At one point, I paused and took the whole scene of the night in. I was impressed at how many different groups had come together to help pull this thing off. Mr. Moore has an incredible amount of connections throughout the city, and he has many dear friends upon whom he can call at any time. Whether it be a donation of money or time, the friends and colleagues he has encountered throughout the years are all eager to help him, and I think that says a lot about him as a person and the work he does. I hoped that I would be in that position someday, and then I realized I am already on my way there. I looked at the volunteers, and I saw my housemates (who came as a box of crayons), some Jesuit Volunteers from DC, volunteers from other service corps within the city, and even a Saint Joe's Hawk! They all had put off their (assumingly) awesome Halloween plans to lend me a hand for a few hours, and I couldn't have been more grateful. Boy, it's good to have friends!

By 8 p.m., we were pushing people out the door, and the "Great Clean Up Dance" began. I was surprised at the amount of work we got done, and by 9 o'clock my housemates and I were out the door, heading home to our Crayola box (because we were crayons, get it?) All told, we had about 900 guests show up for the food, frights, and fun. A thousand bags of candy were given out, numerous horse and buggy rides were taken, and hundreds of little kids I'm sure made their bellies hurt while hopping on the moonbounce. After the chaos had subsided, Mr. Moore told me (still in his wig and wearing his sequined glove, mind you), "Well, Scott, you survived your first Boffo event." And that's what I feel like I did. It wasn't a perfect night, and I could have done some things better. But hey, even Michael Jackson himself made a sub-par album once(did he? I'll get back to you on that one). The point is, overall, the night was a pretty darn cool one, and I can't wait to see what's next!



(I counted the use of 20 hyphens. I hope this post is up to code.)