Candy, pumpkins and parades: Halloween capital of the world is in full swing
Anoka, Minn., is nicknamed the “Halloween Capital of the World” for using the holiday event to distract teens from their shenanigans more than 100 years ago.
You can never catch me by going to a haunted house or watching a horror movie with my eyes open.
Anyway, Halloween is my favorite holiday. Why, you may ask?
I spent the first few years of my life living in Anoka, a suburb of Minneapolis known as the “Halloween Capital of the World.” I went to parades, carved pumpkins, and packed up and went door-to-door in the Minnesota cold.
My parents are famous for their neighborhood decorations. We were the last family to close up shop for trick-or-treating, and with four kids in the house, our wardrobe was always bursting at the seams.
So when I was asked if I wanted to go to the Halloween capital of the world to write a story after Halloween has been gone for over 20 years, it was more than a mission. It was a homecoming.
I came back to Anoka because I wanted to write about the local haunted spots and the dozens of themed events happening throughout this month. But I soon realized it was much more than that.
Not just ghosts and ghouls
My greatest wish as an adult was that this celebration would remind me of the magic of my childhood. My biggest fear was that it would become a tourist trap with its eccentric decorations and indifferent residents.
The red brick town is filled with quaint, sparse Halloween motifs, themed murals, two giant pumpkins, and a ghost tour I took during which I heard a voice or two from behind my shoulder. The Halloween Committee also plans numerous parades and community activities throughout the year in October. But I was surprised at how little there was a more epic Halloween vibe.
From the wonderful Midwestern interactions I had with the locals, it was clear that Anokians take no pride in pretending behind masks or attracting tourists. Their spirit was born out of their willingness to be with each other as they truly are.
Although we didn’t see any richly decorated homes, we did see costumed children perched on their parents’ shoulders, laughing and opening the door with friends. In lieu of voodoo stores and witch potions, a free family event was held, with proceeds from sales going to local scholarships.
Instead of watching strangers jump and scare each other, I watched community members wave to their loved ones as they marched down Main Street. Just like many years ago when my mom took a picture of my dad and me at the big parade.
After 20-odd years of loving Halloween and returning to where it all began, I can confidently say that the magic of Halloween is built on community, not candy. And I don’t think there is any other way.
Supporting the role of Sam Woodward are: Partnership with Pivotal and Journalism Funding Partners. Funder does not provide editorial opinion. Want to send her a note? Email swoodward@gannett.com.
