Growing Up Where Halloween Was Forbidden
I grew up during the Satanic Panic and my evangelical dad thought it was the ‘Devil’s Holiday’
A lot of millennials get pumped this time of the year. They spend months getting their elaborate costume ready, and come the first of October, they change their display name on Twitter to a holiday-themed play on words — ex. “Suzy Gould” becomes “Spooky Ghoul-d.”
I envy them. I wish Halloween gave me that much joy, but I can’t get into the spirit. Their excitement is largely driven by nostalgia. Halloween offers a chance to relive childhood memories that I don’t really have.
My family was Southern Baptist. We attended church weekly and prayed before meals, but for the most part, we were relatively normal by the standards of our town. We didn’t speak in tongues like my Pentecostal friend Joey or handle snakes like… well, I didn’t have a friend who handled snakes (that I know of).
Dad didn’t beat us with Bibles or anything, but he did get caught up in the Satanic Panic that took hold among evangelicals in the late ’80s and early ’90s — and that meant no Halloween at home.
We couldn’t watch the movie Willow because it had black magic in it. I wanted to take karate, but Dad said “no” because they practiced meditation…
