Steve Orcutt was enjoying his time at the heart of spook central Sunday evening.
There was plenty to occupy hundreds of young trick-or-treaters as they approached his house at 109 N. Cottonwood St. in search of treats.
First was a 6-foot chicken with a friendly wave. And for those who wanted to break away from hustling candy, the chicken gave young goblins a short ride on his three-wheeled, two-seated bicycle.
The walk up to Orcutt’s house was an elaborate display of palm trees and plants, an ideal spot for picture-taking.
But the centerpiece was Orcutt’s “pot of piranhas.” Those brave enough to reach their hand into the water quickly realized that the fish were harmless goldfish and not their flesh-eating cousins.
Those who tested the waters were given a treat.
And those who shied away?
“They got treats, too,” said Quentin Sams, who handed out the candy.
As late afternoon faded into dusk, Orcutt started up his sound system. An assortment of spooky musical tunes, screams and an occasional shriek of laughter added to the atmosphere.
Around the corner from Orcutt’s house, the 400 block of East Jackson Street also was a popular destination for trick-or-treaters. Most of the homes were lavishly decorated with spooks and spectacles, lights and inflatable characters.
To accommodate the heavy foot traffic, police closed off the streets in the neighborhood.
“This is our ‘Howl O’Hood,” Orcutt said, which goes beyond just Halloween.
“It’s our way of reminding people that the heart of Iola is still strong,” he said. “One of our goals is to make sure the heart is never taken away from our town.”
Aided by pristine weather, the evening was a full-fledged smash, Orcutt said, with parents and children usually leaving his property with a hearty smile.
Cecilia Orcutt noted that she and her husband purchased enough candy to give pieces to as many as 1,200 children.
“I don’t know if that’s how many showed up, but we’re out of candy,” she said, as the crush of visitors began to wind down.
ORCUTT’S introduction to the Halloween fun came the year he moved to Iola, in 1979.
“It was almost by accident,” he recalled.
As a favor, he allowed a friend who lived on the outskirts of town to set up a spot to hand out candy from his yard.
“She wanted a place to see the kids,” he said, “so I fixed up my screened-in porch. It was all done at the last minute.”
The decorations drew the attention of several children. So he repeated it again the next year. And the next.
“It just grew from there,” he said.
