It’s Halloween! In the Black Hills, Deadweird was filled with characters — and that made it a frightfully good time
Halloween is a state of mind.
The tales of the undead roaming the night, of ghosts, goblins, vampires, witches and some evil certified public accountants haunting the dreams of the unwary, are evoked at this time of year. They are mists, fictions, phantasms of our fears and dreams.
But if all this is true, how did I end up surrounded by monsters last weekend?
There were vampires hanging around, looking to put the bite on someone. Creatures of inhumane height stalked the streets, towering above mere mortals. Characters from horror movies and TV shows appeared in the flesh.
And I played 21 on a table surrounded by Waldos in their red striped shirts and stocking caps.
Deadweird is a wild scene, man.
I had heard about the annual Halloween festival in South Dakota’s most haunted town for years, and always wanted to check it out for myself. I have hunted ghosts a few times before,
In October 2005, I spent the night moving between the two most haunted rooms of the Alex Johnson Hotel. The eighth floor is a ghostly haunt for people who checked in but never really departed, according to stories told by staff members and people who have seen and experienced weird things. Ol’ Alex himself reportedly still stops by to see if his hotel is being managed well and that the staff is on the ball.
When I was there, I was told the elevator sometimes makes unexpected stops on floors. Staff members then acknowledge the founder and move to the next floor.
In October 2013, I spent a weekend at the Irma Hotel in Cody, Wy. The hotel, built by Western legend Buffalo Bill Cody and named for his daughter Irma, was an eerie place at night. Longtime staff members told some rather compelling stories of odd events.
I didn’t have a real scare in Deadwood, although my luck at the tables and on the machines was frighteningly bad. Instead, Grace and I enjoyed our three days in the legendary town, especially witnessing the parade of people in costumes, masks and makeup.
We took the Deadwood Trolley several times, since public parking downtown is lacking. There is always room for another casino or gift shop, but places to park? It’s like searching for a ghost at high noon.
On one of our rides on Friday, Oct. 25, three women (seen above in a Tom Lawrence photo) came aboard. Two were wearing detailed witch costumes, complete with hats. They were accompanied by a woman dressed as a Holstein cow — perhaps she was an enchanted familiar .
Vampires, especially younger women in dark, low-cut outfits, were everywhere. It seems to be the go-to costume for many women. Hey, I’m not complaining.
There was wit behind some wardrobe choices. We ate dinner at Maverick’s Saturday night and spotted a waitress in a blue dress straight out of Wonderland. She wore thick shackles around her neck.
When I asked who she was, she smiled sweetly.
“Alice in Chains,” she said.
We later saw Dorothy from “The Wizard of Oz” walking around with the Wicked Witch of the West. They apparently have put their differences behind them.
Hey, you don’t have to drop a house on some people to make your point.
We saw more than a few Wild Bill Hickok and other Western characters up and about. We paid a visit to the Mount Moriah Cemetery on Saturday, so James Butler Hickok must have taken a break from his eternal sleep.
Some people can’t resist a party.
We saw a lot of people drinking — hey, it’s a weekend in Deadwood — but no signs of out-of-control behavior. Grace said she liked all the happy people, and I agree. There were no political arguments, no fights, no ugly moments.
The Waldos were a lot of fun to be around. They asked me if I had not gotten the memo, since I was in my usual Halloween garb of dark pants, a black T-shirt and a gray sweater. I looked very much like an aging journalist, I thought.
I told them I wore this outfit every year. When you find a winner, stick with it.
Just wish I could have done the same on a 21 table. That will haunt me long after this Halloween.
But, like a specter at midnight, it will eventually fade.
Fourth-generation South Dakotan Tom Lawrence ain’t afraid of no ghosts. Well, for the most part, anyway. Lawrence has written for several newspapers and websites in South Dakota and other states and contributed to The New York Times, NPR, The London Telegraph, The Daily Beast and other media outlets. Republish with permission.
