Halloween, Ashland Style

 

“THERE WILL BE NO OFFICIAL CARAVAN of goblins, ghouls and every other costume imaginable this Halloween in Ashland,” the local Mail Tribune announced in September 2011, under the headline, “Ashland cancels popular Halloween parade.” For years, the city’s annual parade had drawn thousands of onlookers.

According to the parade’s sponsor, The Ashland Chamber of Commerce, rowdy adult participants caused the cancellation. “The type of feedback that the Chamber of Commerce was getting from parents was that their kids weren’t having any fun in the parade … that children felt intimidated,” explained the Chamber’s marketing director.

Although the parade rules were clear—participants’ costumes could not include any nudity, profanity, lewdness, illegal drugs, violence, obscenity, racism or offensive content—too many of the costumes were not “appropriate for a family audience,” the Chamber said.

“Our only true intention is to provide kids in Ashland with the best Halloween experience possible” the marketing director told the Mail Tribune.

A week later, the Chamber announced it would reinstate the parade after being bombarded with letters and phone calls from sad or angry parents and children.

“We were surprised to find out how many people loved the parade, especially how many children loved it,” the Chamber’s Executive director said. “It was so great to see the community respond like it did.”

This year’s Halloween parade unfolded on a drizzly Thursday afternoon. “Don’t miss it!” my new friends here in Ashland told me. I didn’t.

The moment I reached the parade’s gathering spot, two huge inflatable dinosaurs approached me on their hind legs and offered me candy corn. Across the street, a seven-foot tall Count Dracula stood motionless; on close examination, I thought I saw him breathe. A cabal of chatting witches nearby asked, “What’s the scariest thing in the world?” Given the crowd, you may have guessed the answer: “Donald Trump!”

A dog dressed as a pirate got tangled in a stroller ferrying a princess. (Reportedly, 30 million Americans spent an estimated $480 million on Halloween costumes for their pets in 2018, with the pumpkin, the hot dog, and the bumble bee top picks.)

As the parade through Ashland’s downtown wound to a close, a five-ish-year-old boy wearing a stegosaurus on his bottom half waddled by.

“That’s the parade, Tonto,” he said.

 

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