"Das Cabinet des Dr. Caligari" in two Midwestern U.S. newspapers

The 1920 German Expressionist horror film The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari is not something that most American audiences, especially those in the Midwestern United States, were ready for. 

It was among the first German films to be screened in the U.S. after World War I, and with its crooked sets and nightmarish imagery, I'm sure it caused much confusion and consternation. (Also, here's an interesting 2014 post on The Daily Mirror blog about protests and bans surrounding the film.)

Here are a couple of looks at how it was touted in two American newspapers in early 1921.

Above: Iowa City Press-Citizen, March 26, 1921

Above: Lawrence (Kansas) Daily Journal-World, March 28, 1921

Albertine the French witch will cure your maladies

If I'm interpreting the postmarks correctly (see below), these French postcards were mailed in 1903, when President Émile Loubet was running the show. They feature "Little Albertine," who I'm going to call Good Witch Albertine. She's here to provide great remedies for great ills. (Aux grands maux lea grands remèdes.)

There are all sorts of great props in these postcards: a dagger, a spider, an egg, an artichoke, a bottle of crocodile tears, a chalice, a funnel, a creepy bald mannequin, animal horns, what appears to be a deformed piglet and much more. Clearly, they had some fun shooting the photographs for these postcards back in the day.

The top postcard contains the remedy for contre les peines de coeur, which is heartache. It involves eating an artichoke picked at midnight on a moonless night and a white hen's egg. And also wearing a hangman's rope as a belt.

The second postcard is contre la chute des cheveux, an anti-hair loss remedy. This one's more bizarre, and I can't read all of it, because the text is obscured by the witch's hat. But it involves "a night vase that has only been used for a young girl," wolf fat, mouse blood, bat wings, oil ... and apparently the wearing of a hat made of rabbit hair. Do not try this at home, bald persons!  

Happy Halloween Eve!

Happy Hallowen Eve! This week went a little sideways at work (there's an election next week, y'all) and I didn't quite get to the full list of spooky midweek posts that I had planned for Mild Fear 2020. But I do have a couple cool Halloween posts lined up for tomorrow. 

In this meantime, I love this vintage Halloween postcard, with the blue, err, brownie? Can you have a blue brownie? Or should we call him a pixie? Or a hob, or maybe a domovoi?

There's no writing on the back of this embossed Whitney Made postcard from Worcester, Massachusetts. It certainly fits in more with a fun Halloween than a frightening one, and I'm OK with that. I'm also OK with that adorable caterpillar. Since it's a full moon Halloween tomorrow (which only happens about once every two decades) maybe you can find one of these blue brownies sitting on a mushroom in your yard, if you're very quiet about the search.  

Vincent Price tells it like it is

The 1981 clunker of a horror film The Monster Club (not to be confused with 1987's The Monster Squad) has one good thing going for it: Vincent Price. In the framing story of the anthology film, Price plays a vampire who bites a writer (played by the equally iconic John Carradine) and takes him to a club where strange tales are told throughout the night. 

At the end, Price invites Carradine to become the first "hume" (as these monsters call humans) member of the club.

"But I'm not a monster!" Carradine protests.

"Nonsense!" says Price. "You're the greatest monster of them all!"

A few moments later, Price launches into this soliloquy:

"Can we truly call this a monster club if we do not host amongst our membership a single member of the human race? ... In the past 60 years, humes have exterminated over 150 million of their own kind. No effort has been spared to reach this astronomical figure. And the methods that they have used must demand our unstinted admiration. 

"You know, humes began with certain very serious disadvantages, but these they overcame with wonderful ingenuity, not having a fang or a claw or even a whistle worth talking about. They invented guns and tanks and bombs and aeroplanes and extermination camps and poison gas and daggers and swords and bayonets and booby traps and atomic bombs and flying missiles. Submarines, warships, aircraft carriers and motorcars. They have even perfected a process whereby they can spread a lethal disease on any part of this planet. Not to say anything about nuclear power. 

"During their short history you know, humes have subjected other humes to death by burning, hanging, decapitation, strangulation, electrocution, shooting, drowning, crushing, racking, disemboweling and other methods far, far too revolting for the delicate stomachs of this august assembly."

Sigh. The truth hurts.

Worst eBay copy of "The Shining"?

For the "Buy It Now" price of just $18.99 (plus shipping), you can have this silver Signet paperback edition of Stephen King's The Shining. It comes complete with decorative additions to the front and back covers! What a deal! 

In the product description, the seller notes, without any apparent attempt at irony: "Condition is 'Good' but there is some wear. The faces on the book covers have been drawn on and the books a bit bent. The pages themselves are in good condition."

Better idea: Check out your local used bookstore, where you almost assuredly get a copy of Danny Torrance's first adventure for much less, and without the doodles.

Remembering "Alfred Hitchcock's Haunted Houseful"

Earlier this year, at the York Emporium, I stumbled upon another nearly forgotten book from my childhood. It's the anthology book Alfred Hitchcock's Haunted Houseful. It was first published in hardcover in 1961 (shown above), and I think that's the edition that I received as a gift, probably around 1980 and possibly, if memory serves, from my Uncle George and Aunt Susie. 

It's a hefty-sized book, 7¼ inches by 10¼ inches. Published by Random House, it contains stories by Manly Wade Wellman, Constance Savery, Walter R. Books, Jack Bechdolt, Elizabeth Coatsworth, John Kendrick Bangs, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Mark Twain and Donald & Louise Peattie.

And of course there's an introduction (ghostwritten?) by Alfred Hitchcock, in which he writes:

"Why am I publishing a book when I can haunt millions of houses simultaneously each Tuesday night? Certain types of stories make perfect television fare. In the realm of the ghost story, however, I think the printed page has some advantages and I want you to discover them. When you read, you can be alone. — Absolutely alone. Television gives you the comfortable illusion of associating with all those actors. Worst of all, it bathes the entire room in light. Under such circumstances it is amazing that commercials can be as frightening as they are."

Also making the book memorable are the creepy illustrations by Fred Banbery (1913-1999). All of the interior work is done in blue and black, as shown in these fantastic endpapers...

I think I'm of the same mind about the nostaglia and reality of Alfred Hitchcock's Haunted Houseful as Amy, a Goodreads reviewer who wrote this in January:

"This book was a huge part of my childhood. It was on a shelf at my grandparents house when I was growing up and I'd read from it every time we visited. The inside cover illustration is especially inspiring and I used to make up crazy and complex stories just from looking at the picture. When I finally read it all the way through as an older reader, I found that the stories were only mildly spooky and not nearly and scary as the stories I had made up from the pictures. But it's still so charming and fun. My grandmother's copy lives at my house now and my kids have loved to read it, too."

And there's this. By sheer coincidence, Seth Smolinske, who runs The Three Investigators Mystery Series Facebook page and website (oft-mentioned on Papergreat), wrote about these Hitchcock anthology books earlier this month. Here's an excerpt:

"If you grew up reading Three Investigators books, there's a good chance you also read some of the Alfred Hitchcock juvenile anthologies published by Random House.  And this is the perfect time of year to pull one of these off the shelves and dive into some of the dozens of spooky, shuddery, chilling tales that they offered.  No doubt you have a fondly-remembered favorite or two or more! ... Like the original T3I hardbacks, a hallmark of these Hitchcock anthologies are the beautiful internal illustrations — especially the first three volumes which were illustrated by the incomparable Fred Banbery. As with The Three Investigators series, Alfred Hitchcock had virtually nothing to do with the production of these books, his name and likeness were used to help sales and the Hitchcock introductions were all written by the editor of each volume."

Smolinske goes on to note that, starting with the second anthology, the editor was Robert Arthur Jr., who would go on to start The Three Investigators series (also Hitchcock-themed) in 1964. Everything ties together!

Bonus photograph with Banjo

Mr. Bill & the Beistle cat

Mr. Bill, who has a long association with Halloween here at Papergreat HQ, takes a break from monitoring the wildlife¹ in order to check out this vintage, embossed Beistle black cat decoration, which measures about 6 inches wide by 7 inches tall. I bought it last year at The Dark Parlour, a fantastically creepy curiosity shop in York, Pennsylvania. (Like many small businesses, it has taken a foot-traffic hit during this pandemic, so check out its online store if you're so inclined.)

The decoration might date to the 1930s, according to The Dark Parlour. Pennsylvania-based Beistle is still around and has a long history of selling decorations, paper products and more. It was started around 1900 by Martin Luther "M.L." Beistle, according to the company website:

"Always looking for opportunity that involved decorative products made from paper, M.L. made a trip to Heidelberg Germany and while there, he observed a honeycombing technique and being a visionary entrepreneur, skillfully conceived and designed a process to honeycomb tissue paper, and with the addition of these new decorative products, The Beistle Company was formed."

The company started in Pittsburgh but is now located in Shippensburg, Pennsylvania. It declares itself to be "the oldest continuing manufacturer of decorations and party goods in the United States."

It has a separate website, www.vintagebeistle.com, for the sale of its classic holiday offerings from the past century (or more). The Halloween offerings include a reproduction "Scratch Cat" similar to the one standing next to Mr. Bill. It's larger and more elaborate, with movable joints and brass fasteners. 

Footnotes

1. The tiny picnic table is for the chipmunks, though the squirrels and blue jays also grab peanuts from it. At night, it turns into a dinner table for the semi-resident raccoon. The yellowish gourds further in the background are set out as "sacrifices" for the raccoon, which likes to chew a half-dollar-sized hole in them and pull out the innards for a snack. 

2. This month, the lead items promoted on Beistle's main website are face shields for COVID-19.

"Cousin Katie" and three dolls

Too-late trigger warning: More dolls.

Sorry about that. But this is the kind of variety you've come to expect from Papergreat after nearly 10 years and more than 3,200 posts, right? Jumping from vintage Pennsylvania Dutch sweets one day to strange and creepy old photographs of dolls the next.

I'm pretty sure this is the last of the disturbing dolls snapshots for Mild Fear 2020. I'm not 100% sure, because I never know what Igor the Intern is going to dig up at the last minute. But let's don't worry about the future and just appreciate this photograph, which has survived — barely — to present day. 

It has nicks, creases, one big tear and remnants of those old scrapbooking photo corners. It's 4¼ inches wide. And it features three women (one in uniform!), two young girls and three dolls. The only thing written on the back — and it's extremely unhelpful — is "Cousin Katie." Is Katie the one in uniform? And what is that uniform? When was this photo taken? We'll never know. So many mysteries.

And so many dolls! Here's a better look at the three of them, for your Halloween month enjoyment.

The last one is the creepiest, I think. Why does it look like an old man?

Postcard: "Hallowe'en Booh" and James' cheerfulness

Today's vintage Halloween postcard, mailed on October 30 in 1911, features a young boy and a pair of cheerful-looking carved pumpkins. 

The postmark on the back is very faded, and the handwriting on the address provided some challenges. Here's what I started with:

POSTMARK = __?__-CA, N.Y.

ADDRESS=

Homoe. Opathic Hospital

Genesse St.

City

That's it. It just had the word "City," which I took to mean that the postcard was staying in the same place in which it was mailed. After some pondering and sleuthing, it turned out the answer was Utica Homeopathic Hospital, which opened in 1895 on Genesee Street in Utica, New York. 

And so the recipient of the postcard, named James, was a patient at the hospital.

This is what the note says, to the best of my transcription of the cursive writing:

Dear Friend James,

I hope you are feeling better. Keep as cheerful as possible. That will help a whole lot. I will see you soon.

I'm not even going to guess on the signature, which is just a first name.

Also, I don't think this will be the post for an in-depth discussion of the history and credibility of  homeopathic medicine. We'll leave that to the experts. I did find this one interesting tidbit, though: Middletown State Homeopathic Hospital, which operated from 1874 to 2006 in Middletown, New York, used baseball as a form of therapy for patients with mental disorders. The team was called the Asylums, and it became so talent-laden that players were recruited directly from the Asylums to professional baseball teams. According to Wikipedia, Asylums alumni included Alfred Lawson, George "Tuck" Turner, Jack Chesbro and Art Madison.

UK ghost tales book: "The Haunted North Country"

• Title: The Haunted North Country
• Subtitle: A Ghost Tour of the Northern Counties
• Author: C.T. Oxley
• Interior photographs: J. Leach
• Publisher: Unclear. Possibly Dobson/Dobsons of Harrogate, which I believe printed the book
• Price: 35 pence
• Dimensions: 5 inches by 7¼ inches
• Pages: 76
• Year: Possibly 1975. This is the "Second impression with appendix" and there are other online references indicating that makes this publication date 1975. There's also a reference in the text to January 1973, so the book must have come out after that.
• Is there an appendix? No.
• Format: Staplebound
• From the introduction: "Some ghosts it seems are humorous, others grim and malicious, and many appear to have no apparent reason for haunting a particular spot. ... Man knows a great deal concerning his immediate environment, but there is a great deal on the misty boundaries of this life of which he knows nothing. ... The stories and accounts haunted places in this booklet are merely a selection, there are many others."
• Sampling of hauntings detailed within: The Gray Man of Bellister, the White Lady at Blenkinsopp Castle, the Martindale Boggle, the Radiant Boy of Corby Castle, the Grey Lady of Levens Hall, the skull of Wardley Hall, the Bloody Footstep of Smithhills Hall, the phantom horseman of Wycoller Hall, the haunted chamber of Bolling Hall, "Charlie" of Lumb Hall, and the knocking ghost of Morley.
• Bonus witch content: There's mention of a "notorious" witch near Samlesbury Hall named Grace Sowerbutts. But according to this Wikipedia article, Grace was the accuser, not the accused.

Fred Murnau's iconic film hits U.S.

Here's an interesting find from the newspaper archives. It's how F.W. Murnau's 1922 German film Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror was described and reviewed when it was finally released in the United States in June 1929, seven years after its German premiere. (But still two years before Bela Lugosi played Dracula on the silver screen for Universal, changing the course of U.S. horror movie history.)

The article is from the June 3, 1929, edition of the Daily News of New York City.

Amusingly, it refers to Friedrich Wilhelm Murnau as "Fred Murnau." And the film for this American release was called Nosferatu, the Vampire. 

The article makes clear that the movie, which (barely) survived an attempt by Bram Stoker's estate to have all copies destroyed, was presented to the audience in a less than perfect state. It "has been preyed upon by the cutters. It is unreeled at the 8th st. movie house in choppy, ever-shifting scenes."

Nosferatu also gets backhanded praise in the newspaper review for its "extreme weirdness and unusual photography." Those are reasons, of course, it's still much-discussed and revered today.

Related posts 

• Which movies gave you the biggest fright?
• Sunrise and light
• Hutter had my dream bedroom
• Why don't I ever stumble across Nicolas Cage vampire ephemera?
• Which vintage "Dracula" cover is your favorite?

And finally...

I have no problem admitting I first learned about Nosferatu from Spongebob

— Mike Peterson (@MIKESMOIST) March 7, 2015

Polish poster for 1965's "Kwaidan"

Ashar and I watched Kwaidan, Masaki Kobayashi's 1965 anthology film of ghostly Japanese folk tales, this week. The film is a feast of colorful set design, cinematography, lighting (especially the use of theatrical stage lighting) and atmosphere. It comes highly recommended, though you might want to stretch out the three-hour film over two nights, as we did. The breaks between the four tales make for perfect pausing points. 

Shown above is the movie poster that was created for the film's theatrical release in Poland. It's a piece of art unto itself. According to the internet, the poster was designed by Wiktor Gorka, and more of his work can be seen here.

My favorite segment from Kwaidan (though they are all great) is "The Woman of the Snow," which tells a less-violent, but no-less-heartbreaking, version of the Lafcadio Hearn folk tale that I first saw adapted for the screen in 1990's Tales from the Darkside: The Movie. (I am aghast, by the way, that when Kwaidan was first released in the United States, it was cut from 3 hours to 2 hours, and "The Woman of the Snow" segment was removed entirely!)

After watching Kwaidan, Ashar asked about other Japanese horror films, especially folk horror, from that period of filmmaking. We'll definitely watch Ugetsu, might check out Onibaba or Kuroneko, and will be skipping Jigoku, which just seems entirely too grim for 2020. We are also intrigued by the craziness on display in the Hausu trailer, but that's an entirely different genre than the standard ghost tale.

Kwaidan is part of the Halloween Month Film Festival that Ashar and I scheduled for ourselves. We have some classics and chillers ahead in the next two weeks!

A fun "Merry Hallowe'en" postcard

Sure, Halloween should be about about chills and thrills. But it should also be about the joy of the season. The spooks and spectres, the ghosts and goblins, should be on our side. That would be nice, anyway. And so I love this illustration of a Pumpkin King and his Vegetable Children. It's kind of wonderful in its insanity, as the anthropomorphic trio from the garden wish us a Merry Hallowe'en.

No publisher is listed for the card. This one was mailed on October 29 in either 1908 or 1909. (The postmark is slightly obscured when it comes to the last digit of the year.) The postmark is from Waterford, Pennsylvania.¹ 

The postcard stayed in town. It was mailed to a Mr. and Mrs. E.J. Osborn. The cursive note states:

"Better late than never, but it is better to be a little earlier about sending Halloween cards don't you think so. From your sister Maude"

Footnote 

1. Waterford is a tiny borough in Erie County. One of its famous residents is former Penn State and NFL football player Brian Milne. I overlapped with him for about a year at Penn State and thus covered his athletic exploits a bit. I wrote this for The Daily Collegian on April 24, 1992: "Possibly fitting into the equation at fullback is redshirt freshman Brian Milne -- unless he's in Barcelona. Milne is competing with Penn State's track team this spring and is attempting to qualify for the Summer Olympics in the discus."

Imagine getting 100 vintage Halloween postcards for $1

Old Halloween postcards are some of the most collectible postcards out there, with their bright colors and oft-amazing illustrations: sometimes spooky, sometimes funny, sometimes sweet, sometimes totally bizarre. The best ones are highly sought by collectors and can sell for extremely high prices. So I thought it would be amusing to revisit how cheap they were they were brand new, more than a century ago. Picking up a few bundles of these would be an excellent use of a time machine.

From the October 7, 1907, edition of the The Huntington Herald of Huntington, Indiana.

From the October 26, 1908, edition of The Marion Star of Marion, Ohio

From the October 8, 1909, edition of The Times-Tribune of Scranton, Pennsylvania (advertisement for Ladwig's)

From the October 22, 1909, edition of the Chillicothe Gazette of Chillicothe, Ohio

Book cover: "Ghosts of Derbyshire"

• Title: Ghosts of Derbyshire
• Author: Clarence Daniel 
• Also by this author: Derbyshire Customs, Derbyshire Traditions, Haunted Derbyshire
• Cover illustrator: E. Jeffrey (it's a depiction of Chesterfield's ghostly monk)
• Back cover blurb: "HAUNTED HALLS — PHANTOM FRAGRANCES — OCCULT HAPPENINGS — HEADLESS MEN — GHOST HOUNDS — STRANGE SPECTRES"
• Publisher: Dalesman Books (The Dalesman Publishing Company Ltd., Clapham (via Lancaster), North Yorkshire)
• Printer: Galava Printing Co. Ltd., Hallam Road, Nelson, Lancashire
• Price: 85 pence
• Year: 1977 (First published, 1973. Second edition, 1974. Reprinted, 1977.)
• Pages: 79
• Format: Paperback
• From the acknowledgements: "I am particularly grateful to Mr. E. Hector Kyme, a fastidious photographer whose viewfinder is a crystal ball of magic, marvel and mystery."
• A few chapter titles: "Twelve Headless Men," "The Ghosts of Castleton," "Gabriel's Ghost Hounds," and "Dickey o'Tunstead"
• First sentence: Although I have never seen a ghost, nor had any experience of the occult or supernatural, it would be foolish of me wildly to disclaim or denounce belief in the possible existence of other dimensions in time."
• Last sentence: The speaker, and some friends present at the meeting, all testified to having seen the monk with the golden cross.
• Random sentence from the middle: I was first attracted to Heage because it is one of the few villages in Derbyshire that has either had sufficient foresight to preserve its tower windmill, or lacked the energy to pull it down when the creak of its sails finally lapsed into silence.
• Is the Heage windmill still there? Apparently so. It dates to 1791.
• Reviews: There are no customer reviews to be found on any of the standard bookseller websites. Nor are there any reviews on Goodreads. I did, however, come across an October 2018 post about this book by "Ben" on the blog Found Objects. It's mostly a collection of the book's interior images (which is certainly valuable for posterity). It also contains these thoughts: "In addition to the usual round of spectral hounds and ladies in white, this particular area of the midlands seems notable for a lot of funny business involving skulls, and, if Clarence Daniel is to be believed, a frankly suspicious abundance of bad local poets, all dedicated to commemorating supernatural events using a fairly similar meter. You can draw your own conclusions."
• Inspiring a descendant: In 2012, the "National Paranormal Association" curated a Nottingham Post article about Ruddington's Faye Stenson. She noted this at the time about her fascination with ghosts and her interest in collecting local ghost stories: "My interest in the subject stems from my maternal grandfather, Clarence Daniel, who published several books such as Ghosts of Derbyshire and was a well-known historian in and around Derbyshire until he passed away in 1987." 

Pepsi-Cola Halloween postcard

This undated, unused Halloween postcard served as an advertisement for both Pepsi-Cola and Crowe's Market in tiny Dunkirk, Ohio. Crowe's was touting its fresh fruit and vegetables, frozen foods, free delivery and "service with a smile." The only search results I get for Crowe's on Google or Newspapers.com are related to this postcard, so I don't know anything about it history.

Based upon the Pepsi-Cola logo and the bottle label that are shown, I think this postcard can be dated to sometime between the early 1930s and the early 1940s. It theoretically could be as late as 1951, but Pepsi-Cola introduced the color blue into its existing logo during World War II to be more patriotic, and I'm not seeing any blue here. The very best guess for this postcard and bottle might be 1939. That's per the bottle and year shown on this 2015 History of Pepsi Bottles article on Foodravel.com.

Other good sites to learn about the history of Pepsi bottles/logos are here and here.

Even without the advertising, this is a fun vintage Halloween postcard, with the bear cubs chasing another cub with a pumpkinhead ghost. It reminds me of several similar ones, including this post and this post.

Mild Fear 2020: I told you there would be dolls

Boo! OK, I did warn y'all that there would be dolls during Mild Fear 2020. So let's get them out of the way. This real photo postcard is an absolute gem. It's an AZO card and, based on the four upward-pointing arrows in the stamp box, it dates to between 1904 and 1918. Quite sadly, there is no informative text whatsoever on the back, just some scribbles that may or may not be runic symbols for the summoning of Maharet and Mekare. So we have no idea about the who, when and where of these two young girls.

There are a lot of interesting things to spot in the photo, including the locket on the girl on the left and the bare feet of the girl on the right. And, of course, the dolls. 

But let's be honest. In a Halloween shivers, Grady twins kind of way, what's creepier here... 

 The dolls?

Or the girls?

Attar the Merman addendum featuring Ron Glass

I've had two posts featuring author Joe Haldeman (1943-present) within the past two months and not only did I fail to connect the two to each other, but I failed (until now) to realize that Haldeman also penned the original story behind eight of my favorite minutes of 1980s television. 

So here's the rundown, the Hugo- and Nebula-winning Haldeman wrote Planet of Judgment, the Star Trek novel I highlighted in August because of its groovy insert advertisement for original hand-painted cels from Star Trek: The Animated Series. 

Haldeman also wrote the two Attar the Merman books, including War of Nerves, which I wrote about last month. These are not considered memorable novels, with the possible exception of the character Grampus.

But Haldeman also (in addition to all his award-winning stuff) wrote the short story "I of Newton," which was published in the June 1970 issue of Fantastic Stories magazine. It details a college mathematics professor who accidentally sells his soul to the devil. And I will give no further details. 

Alan Brennert turned the story into a short teleplay for the 1985 revival of the television series The Twilight Zone. It stars Ron Glass and Sherman Hemsley and ... well, you should really just go ahead and watch it.

 

Mild Fear 2020: I'll try to be gentle

I wrote about this postcard in 2015, so it's OK that I'm presenting a Pixlr'd version here. 

I think we have enough happenings that are causing us fear, stress and anxiety in 2020, don't you? I've been occasionally curating the headlines of the day for posterity, and they're not really getting any better.¹ Here are today's, for example:

• Trump returns to White House, downplaying virus that hospitalized him and turned West Wing into a "ghost town"
• Concern rises for White House residence staffers as their workplace emerges as a virus hot spot
• For Secret Service, a New Question: Who Will Protect Them From President?
• "An embarrassment": Trump tweet angers pandemic survivors
• White House blocks FDA’s ramped up coronavirus vaccine guidelines
• Colleges are cutting sports programs in the pandemic — upending the lives of athletes and coaches
• LSU football to remove CDC wellness checks, resume alcohol sales at Tiger Stadium
• CDC now says it CAN spread indoors
• Cuomo orders closures in NYC as surge continues
• Post-Pandemic "New Normal" Looks Awfully Authoritarian
• Europe's Second Covid Wave Starts to Spill Over From Young to Old
• Mexico reports record daily increase in cases, deaths
• New Hurricane Threat Looms For Gulf Coast 

So, with this in mind, I'll try to veer toward a kindler, gentler and even milder Mild Fear 2020 — a Papergreat tradition since 2015. There are plenty of ways to enjoy Halloween Month, the greatest of all months, without (additional) unnecessary shocks and jolts. The one caveat would probably be dolls. If you're not a big fan of dolls, this might not be the 100% mildest of all possible Mild Fears. But other that, you should be OK. Probably. 

Honestly, the ghosts, goblins and grotesques are probably as distraught about 2020 as most of us are. I think this one from Château de Blois in Loire Valley, France, sums up what we're feeling about 2020 quite nicely, don't you?

Footnote

1. Past headline collections:

• March 25
• April 25
• June 27
• July 18
• July 26