I am writing this on the first day of fall, 2026. Summer is officially over. Mums are on sale everywhere.
Pumpkins adorn storefronts, and, oh horror of horrors, the dreaded pumpkin spice lattes are featured in coffee shops all across the land.
Candy corn and family size packs of miniature candy bars are stacked on grocery store shelves, in anticipation of the neighborhood sugar high on Halloween. Up in the Carolina High Country, the leaves are coloring up, and there’s a distinct nip in the air.
The Lowcountry isn’t immune to all the shenanigans, and we certainly do our part to keep the candy industry bustling. Let’s be honest, who can turn down a Heath Bar Miniature when offered?
Here in the Lowcountry we have our own special way of spicing up the Halloween season. We take our paranormal spirit world seriously. It’s a signature attribute of the region. No matter what you call ‘em wherever you live, in the Lowcountry, they’re locally known as “haints,” “boohags,” and a variety of other descriptive terms for monsters, ghosts, and goblins.
The supernatural is important stuff in the Lowcountry, much of it carried down from the Gullah Geechee folklore traditions. In Beaufort, you can sign up for a ghost tour to meet our local other-worldly beings and hear stories of rampant haints. Just drive through Beaufort on an October evening, and you are likely to see some very odd sights. But not to worry, they’re all friendly, and they take tips.
Haints can even enhance real estate values…or not, depending on one’s predilections for having the occasional unexplained happenings in your home. I have no immediate intention of selling my house, so I’m comfortable admitting there are residents on the premises who we don’t report to the census taker…and I don’t think ICE will be rounding up any undocumented spirits until they can figure out where to deport them.
At one point several years ago, we had so many strange occurrences we called in a psychic to check out the situation. Actually, none of the happenings were truly scary or seemed evil. They were just weird. When something or someone began sitting on the foot of the bed in the dead of night, we figured it might be time to seek some help. As it turned out, per the psychic, there were a few agitated spirits wandering around to include a Revolutionary War soldier and a Yemassee warrior.
Then there was the “hello ghost,” a genial fellow who would periodically call out “hello” in the front foyer. We’re good with that, and we’d say, “hello,” back. That seems to keep him quiet for a while.
On another occasion, a nephew, around eight years old, was quietly hanging out upstairs. We thought he was watching cartoons or playing a learning game on his youth tablet. Later that afternoon, he asked his mom if the little girl could come over to play again. Huh? That one is still a mystery.
Things have been quiet for the past few years, but you never know. In the meantime, our porch ceilings are painted “Haint Blue,” and there’ll soon be a bowl of candy corn on the front hall table. The Heath Bar Miniatures might survive until Halloween, but it’s highly unlikely. Boo!
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