***
For those of you who
follow my live action movie reviews and or like my random status updates of me
screaming at people in horror movies know nothing provokes my righteous ire more
than people who choose to run into the cornfields when fleeing from monsters
and madmen.
Last night was the very
1st time my sister and I were actually in a cornfield. The 1st
thing a city
dweller notices when
being in real life farm country is how dark it is at night. It’s even darker in
a corn field, it’s naturally claustrophobic and the terrain is uneven. Being
inside a corn field at night is unsettling even when nothing is going on, so
much so that I broke the cardinal rule by instantly utilized my flashlight app
on my phone. The rebuke was immediate.
Its easy to Monday
morning quarterback or be an armchair general but this isn’t what this is about
because I can totally see how something like this could happen.
The Seattle horror
community is a pretty tight knit family, and the people who are responsible for
putting these haunts together take their jobs seriously even thou 90% of them
are volunteers. They work incredibly hard and put in tons of hours to put on
the best show that they possibly can, brainstorming and planning starting
months in advance. They vent to their friends about what goes on behind the scenes,
call each other out and then fight on facebook about perceived slackers and the
injustice of towing someone else’s line. They go to each other’s haunts to
critique each other’s sets because they want the equivalent of the fan’s choice
awards in the form of longer lines, glowing reviews, and tons of social media
tags.
They do this all for us,
so I can totally see how something like this could happen. But…
Working around heavy equipment
my entire adult life there is a huge piece of me that drops everything to ask ‘how
safe is this?’ the minute any type of machinery is involved. I stand in line at
amusement parks scrutinizing the framework looking for the tell-tale signs of
properly preventive and the upkeeping of schedule maintenance, making a b-line
to the food court at the 1st sign of a rusted bolt, the faintest
whisper of dry, grinding gears.
Without a doubt there is
blame here, but I’m not the one to cast it. The zombie slayer bus was a brand
new attraction for the Incredible Corn
Maze at Hauser Lake. A brand new attraction just for us…the fans.
I didn’t know this kid,
but my heart is breaking just the same because I know a dozen kids and adults
just like him. They do what they do for the sheer love of it. They do what they
do for us, the fans. But at the end of the day, we the fans are not worth this. My deepest condolences to the McSpadden family and to everyone who knew and loved Jeremy.
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