“There’s a little witch in all of us.” — Aunt Jet Owens, “Practical Magic”
Ah, the air has started to become crisp at night. A distressed, rustling sound that only a leaf can make as it has begins the journey of the end of its life, has started to fill the background noise of our hectic lives. Advertising for pumpkin-spice everything has covered most of the urban landscape: Why? I will never know when apple-cinnamon is far more superior. And skeleton decorations have begun to fill up almost every single living domain as far as the eye can see. A literal wave of skeletons, all sizes, babies, children, adults, giants, all different hobbies and occupations. Some with love interests. Some with pets. Some light up while others play music. My head instantly begins to think that if the undead rose up, maybe it might look something like this; who would have ever thought a skeleton could like painting so much or wear a mow-hawk? And just like that, a subconscious signal is sent to my brain, as an excited chill goes up my spine…IT’S SPOOKY SEASON. I mean, fall is on the way. And what does all of this mean? Salem, Massachusetts, here I come.
I have always found magic, even awe-ment with the grandeur ideas that women could be so strong that they could change the world around them with just a twitch of a nose or a flick of their wand. I desperately wanted to live my life as a magical being. I wanted the kind of sisterhood that The Sanderson Sisters had. I wanted to walk on water like Fairuza Balks’ tormented and powerful character, Nancy, until she became too greedy with power and spent the rest of her days in a psych ward. I longed for a crown and gown like Glinda’s until I became sympathetic to the Wicked Witch. I mean was she really being unreasonable? All she wanted was her ruby slippers. And I dreamed of having eternal youth like The Grand High Witch, you know, until she turned into a rat and was sliced in half with a big meat cleaver.
I mean, can you even consider yourself a true New Englander if you don’t find (at least a little) mystery and intrigue —curiosity, even— in all things Witchy or things that go bump in the night? Even if that means finding wonder in the wrongful execution of 19 human beings and the imprisonment of a couple hundred more. I can’t lie, as a child—even a teenager— I bought into the narrative that these people, more so the women then the men because it surely isn’t the men’s images reproduced onto gimmicky shirts that say, “We are the daughters of the witches you didn’t burn,” or Halloween costumes and clothing lines that are fashioned after some kind of magical, supernatural, glamorous lifestyle that promises youth and beauty for eternity. It wasn’t until I was much older that I learned the images of the witches that were green in color, with disfigured faces, crooked noses and thin, ratty hair, was because when the women were brought to the trenches—usually at night, after being tortured, starved, beaten unmercifully, kept in inhumane conditions had crooked noses because had been broken while being beaten—was how the flock that came to witness the trials and hangings of these women, seen these victims. Green and purple from bruises, jagged limbs from broken bones, ratty hair from malnourishment and inhumane conditions and bumpy noses from having their faces beaten in. This was how the witches looked to them. Instead I began to view them as symbols of feminism—even though not by their choice.
As I grew older and gained some knowledge I began to view them as martyrs and more importantly, young women who were used as pawns and treated like scare tactics to keep the community in fear, while maintaining the power they unjustly created for themselves. And even though I know all of these things, Salem still feels like a place where magical things can happen. I still proudly wear my shirt that says, “I got stoned in Salem, MA.” I leave trinkets at the memorial sites of victims such as Sarah Good and Rebecca Nurse—both hung on Gallows Hill on July 19th, 1692—where a memorial now sits just outside the gates of Old Burying Point. These 19 victims’ lives are now celebrated, memorialized and the label “witch” is no longer feared but instead accepted and embraced in the town of Salem.
As anyone who has ever traveled to Witch City—Salem’s beloved nickname—knows, visiting the infamous place of the Salem witch trials anytime from late August to mid-September can be difficult finding any kind of parking. And parking from mid-September to the first weekend of November is virtually impossible. With a yearly population of roughly 45,000 residents, limited paid parking options and no on-street parking and an estimated 1.5 million visitors, Salem officials suggest taking public transportation into the city when you come to visit but if you’re anything like me, the idea of sitting next to some random person, getting coughed on, sharing not only space but also germs makes my skin itch. Not to mention the constant fear of getting on the wrong bus or missing my spot, it’s just not worth the anxiety for me but if that’s your jam then that is definitely the best option to go this time of year. For myself though, I drive into the city, braving traffic and pedestrians that jump head first into oncoming traffic and I situate myself into the parking lot behind the Witch CIty Mall. To ensure I can find a spot, I leave my house by 6:00 am. I’ve never had issues parking when I leave this early.
The downside is most of the shops and restaurants don’t open until 9:00 am or later. Easy fix, I like to walk to Lulu’s Bakery & Pantry for sustenance. If you don’t know what to order, cupcakes are always a go-to for me because why can’t cupcakes be a breakfast food? There is also Caramel French Patisserie sporting one of the biggest macaroon cookie selections that I have ever seen. All walking distance from Essex Street which holds a lot of the attractions in Salem.
I also feel like it is my duty as your traveling companion to let you know about the grave bathroom situation that will face you in Salem. There are only two public restrooms, one located in the Witch City Mall and the other in the parking garage next to the Salem Visitors Center. Do you remember how many people I told you visit Salem this time of year? Let me do the math for you. Last year Salem had its highest attendance rate at over 1.5 million visitors from the kick off of their Halloween season which begins with their Halloween Happenings Celebration and parade which is typically the last weekend of September to the end of their season which is roughly the first weekend in November. The Witch City Mall bathroom has three stalls—if you’re unsure how to find this bathroom, let your nose guide you. You’ll smell it well before you find it— and the bathroom by the visitor’s center which has 2 single stall bathrooms. Let that sit for a half of a minute. I don’t tell you this to scare you off, nope. Actually, it’s the complete opposite. I’m just trying to mentally prepare you. I always carry disinfectant wipes, hand sanitizer, a roll of toilet paper and I practice holding my breath for weeks leading up to my visit. These bathrooms are not for the faint of heart or people with weak stomachs. I always shower when I get home in hopes of washing all flesh-eating bacteria and communicable diseases off of my body before I, too, become yet another victim of Salem.
So you’re here, you have made it to Salem. You managed to find a parking spot, you have the two bathrooms mapped out and you have prayed to whoever you pray to that you do not need to use them. So now what do you do? There are so many things to do; here’s the most important thing to know about these attractions though, almost all of them require that you purchase the tickets online prior to your visit. Especially this time of year, the costs to these attractions are sometimes almost double and they sell out oftentimes weeks in advance. What should you purchase tickets to? Another great question. Here are some gentle suggestions; if you’re into horror try Count Orlok’s Nightmare Gallery Monster Museum or the International Monster Museum. Looking for something a little more educational, try the Salem Witch Museum, the Salem Wax Museum, or the Bewitched Walking Tour of Salem—I promise after this tour, you won’t ever think of a Witch’s Cake the same but I’m not going to be the one to ruin it for you. Maybe a place to pay tribute and see some amazing historical burying sites might tickle your fancy; Old Burying Point is the place for you—just be sure to bring your tokens of goodwill to leave on the memorial sites! Into shopping? My two favorite shops I always hit when I am in the area; Village Silversmith, Salem. The best jewelry shop ever, as long as you’re into silver. From crystals to charms and rings, necklaces and bracelets. Everytime I leave there with a new treasure I feel sparkly and fancy and one step closer to my natural-hippy self. This last visit I scored two new charms for my bracelet as well as crystal confetti eggs from a gumball machine located at the back of the store—it only takes quarters. Because again, can you say you are from New England if you don’t have some kind of rock or crystal collection? I heard once that before pumpkins are sacrificed for lattes and scented candles, farmers place clear quartz throughout the fields to protect themselves from the bad karma that comes from mass slaughter once they begin their harvest.
As I make my way down the cobblestone street, lined with tourists from all over the place—so far on my trip I have seen license plates from Texas, California, Minnesota, Florida, Maryland, New York, Vermont, New Hampshire and Missouri—I can’t help but think of the women who once were parade down these same streets as criminals who were accused of dancing with the Devil. The sound of carriage wheels from years ago turning over the cobblestone bricks echoes over all the excited chatter. I am pulled back to the present when my traveling companion loudly exclaims, “There he is. Right over there.”
The only thing that I love seeing more than the tourists all dressed in their costumes is the street performers. “I told you he was going to be here. I saw him all over TikTok last week when the street performers started showing back up on Essex Street.” The performers are only in Salem for a few short weeks. Sometimes it’s nearly impossible to even get near them for a picture but today was my lucky day.
“Go over there, take your picture with ‘him.”
I’m not usually in front of the camera but today I’ll make the exception. Michael Myers stares at us from a few feet away, searching our souls with his dark eyes. People walk in between us as we walk towards him but his eyes never come off of us. The sun reflexes on the metal of his knife and I walk right up to him. WIth glee in my voice I ask him, “Will you please kill me?” Without a word he grabs me by the arm and mocks my death as hundreds of people walk b
y, not even paying attention. My friend snaps the photo and I place a tip in his bucket.
As I walk back towards her she says, “Dude, you can’t smile when you’re being killed by Michael Myers.”
I reply, “I think I already did.”
Until next time my fellow wanderers, safe travels!
