There’s a reason I don’t go to haunted houses anymore. It’s partly because I know how they work, but it’s mostly because I suspect there are other kids out there like the boy with the rubber guts.
In the 1980’s me and my friends went to plenty of haunted houses. My friends Dale and Daryl always turned their garage into a neighborhood haunted house, hanging sheets from the ceiling to make a maze – they loved it.
My Dad’s Masonic Lodge in Riverdale had a hugely successful haunted house that drew crowds from all over Atlanta. There were always huge lines and the crowds grew longer as the night went on. I vividly remember that they had one room where you walked across a swinging bridge strung over a bottomless pit… inside a HOUSE no less!!! It was a simple yet terrifying and amazing Continue reading The Boy with the Rubber Guts