Tegan Hirman – Staff Writer
Anyone who knows me knows that I love horror movies. Other classics like Halloween and The Exorcist, children’s Halloween movies like HalloweenTown, Twitches, and Monster House, even newer horror movies like The Invisible Man, Hush, and The Conjuring. I like all of these films, and each and every one of them holds a dear place in my heart. Especially Halloweentown. However, none of these were my first horror movies. In actuality, I have to admit that my first, let’s call it scary movie, was when I was in kindergarten and I watched The Sandlot. Now, I know when you are thinking, it’s not a scary or “horror” movie. Yes, I know and I give you all permission to laugh at what is about to transpire.
In retrospect The Sandlot is not a scary movie, but back in kindergarten it most certainly was. Just thinking about it, I envisioned a big ferocious dog with a rabid glare, a breath that smells like rotting flesh, yellow teeth that could tear through flesh, and a thirst for young vulnerable children. Tell me you wouldn’t be scared too. Well, that’s not the point necessarily. At first, I watched the move in the comfort of my own living room with my mother who thought I would love the move considering I played softball since I could walk. She considered this to be lighthearted, perhaps easy for my stomach. At first, it was. I went out of bed that night with mostly clear thoughts. Perhaps the image of the dog would appear now and then but nothing out of the ordinary. The next night, however, that’s when the tides shifted.
A little bit of a backstory, at the time we owned three basset hounds. There was Matilda, Buford Wallis, and Cleatus T. They were so sweet, kind, and a bit slimy dogs. I loved them so much. But, that night, I could have lived without them. I remember it being a very dark, cold night, a perfect ambience to set the scene. It must have been late October, early November. I was getting ready for bed, brushing my teeth, combing my blonde curly hair, and eventually pulling back my covers to get into bed. My room was freezing due to the fact I was facing the back of the house with the least amount of heat. I remember sitting on my bed, which faced the backyard window, and saw the colorful leaves that covered the icy, crunchy grass. A rainbow that laid upon the solid ground, the earth preparing to take another long rest. With a yawn, I blinked the tears from my eyes, and took a nice long deep breath. My left hand resting on my cheek, my elbows perched on the windows ledge, I traced a heart onto the window covered in moisture. All of a sudden, a huge, snarly dog jumped onto my window, barking it’s head off, flashing it’s brilliant white teeth. I fly backwards, landing on my bottom with a huge thud, crawling backwards in a motion that resembles a crab walk, all the while screaming my head off. Thumbling for the door handle, hands too wet to grab hold, and all I could think about was the image of the dog from the Sandlot flying through mid air, swallowing a baseball whole, ripping the kids contraption into two, and now it was my turn for “the beast” to get me.
Long story short, it was Buford Wallis who jumped onto a landing that was right below my window. Though I had this knowledge and it did relieve some of my anxiety, I still made my mother smash the VCR Tape that held that wretched movie. That was my first glimpse into the horror genre, and at the time I hated it, but now I love it. I hope you all have a spooky Halloween.