People on Verner Street had been putting up with Klyde’s Halloween hijinks for years. Old-timers remembered him moving in back in the 60’s and even then putting together elaborate decorations, scares, and even a haunted garage that had brought noise complaints from three blocks away. Back then, though, his Devil’s Night reveries had to compete with a day job and a family. His retirement in 1985 and his wife’s death a year later removed those obstacles, allowing him to pursue Halloween virtually full-time.

There’s still talk of the mad scientist set-up from 1987, which had involved sixteen pounds of dry ice and three pig carcasses. More than one teen hardened by slasher movies nevertheless voided their bowels in 1989 when Klyde’s self-dismemberment schtick had splattered them with what turned out to be chicken giblets. The pranks became notably more mean-spirited in later years, but Klyde was crafty enough not to be caught red-handed, so to speak.

That’s how, in the fall of 1999, a group gathered with the sole and express purpose of giving old man Klyde a taste of his own medicine.