Happy Halloween, FreakSugar readers! We hope that your plans for Samhain go swimmingly, whether they include an office costume party, taking your young ghouls trick-or-treating, or summoning a Lovecraftian horror to this realm to cleanse the Earth. In the spirit of one of our favorite holidays, the FreakSugar staff members decided to share their own Halloween memories. Hopefully, you won’t be scarred by any of them.

Lemonjuice McGee

Halloween was always such an odd time for me growing up. The want to dress up and score free candy was counterbalanced, in my parent’s mindset, by the pressure of being in the Bible belt and the holiday’s “evil intentions for the youth”. So, while I wasn’t able to cover myself in gore and sport a conventional frightening mask– my costumes were just as terrifying.

My Mom’s solution for a “safe” trick-or-treating masquerade? The hobo.

Yes, I was a hobo each and every October 31st for a handful of years. The shabby clothes and large fake cigar (because smoking was cool in the 80s) allowed me to become a rambling man. You know, the kind that steals anything not nailed down, disembowels fellow travelers for a can of beans, and makes children disappear forever? That was me. One year there was even a mask added to the ensemble that gave the impression I had a bulbous red nose from my many years gorging on home-made party liquor. I was the littlest hobo. Fucking creepy right?

Tom Akel

When I was in my 20’s I used to throw an annual party at my folks place out on Long Island, which was always an awesome time. My folks didn’t typically get dressed up but I wanted them to participate, since I was back at the age where it was cool to hang out with your parents again. While searching online for pieces to my [absolutely incredible] Chewbacca costume I came across Babylon 5 costumes for G’Kar and Delenn. So when my Don Post C-3P0 head arrived (he was on my back, natch), I has surprised my parents by getting them costumes for their favorite characters. This was pre-digital camera days so the pics are all back in NY (I’m in LA now) and I’d need to dig them up and scan them.

Sean Kleefeld

Probably my favorite Halloween memory was from kindergarten. I wore my Ben Cooper Batman costume to school, only to discover my friend wore the same thing. Neither of us had realized that the other liked Batman, and we thought that was the coolest thing ever!

Steve Ekstrom

I used to own a really expensive Michael Myers mask and coveralls when I was younger. I would dress up in my gear; put the Carpenter score on blaring; unscrew all the light bulbs and stand in some dark area of the house to wait for my roommates to come home. In typical fashion, they would stop in the doorway and look around with absolutely queasy looks on their faces and say, “Steve? This is really not funny–you’re scaring me.” I giggle every damn time I think about it. Sometimes, I would just walk around neighborhoods with the outfit on…it was absolutely exhilarating.

Meghan Killeen

When I was in my late teens (and let’s face it, I still am), I was obsessed with being a Ghostbuster. So, when I saw an upcoming ghost hunting class advertised, I immediately signed up for it. I got to learn how to wield a dowsing rod, EVP recorder and EMF reader (sadly, no Proton Pack) in a spooky, mansion. Ghosts and gadgets-a sign of things to come. This was my most memorable Halloween, that and perhaps, when I was in the circus (seriously).

Jed Harris-Keith

While I can’t think of one Halloween memory that was my favorite—they all kicked ass—I can pinpoint my favorite costume. When I was in fifth grade, Mom sewed together a Mummy costume using white longs and strips of a white sheet. While most mothers didn’t love their children and merely wrapped the strips on the outside of their trick-or-treater’s clothing, my mom sewed each strip to the long johns so they would stay in place. The ensemble was topped off with a green mask to suggest facial rotting, with a strip of blanket strategically placed over my face to let some green peek through. Mom was—and continues to be—the bomb.