I am one of a few UW-Madison undergraduate students who can personally testify to the notion that Halloween in this city ain't what it used to be.
The annual holiday festivities on State Street date back to the 1970's and could once be counted as perhaps Madison's premier social event. The crowds, among the largest of any public gathering in the country, regularly amounted to 80,000 people, some estimating that the 2005 crowd topped the 100,000 mark. People from all across America would meet up with their Wisconsin friends for the Madison Halloween; other groups would meet up with no one and came just for the festivities. When I was a freshman in 2005, I even met someone who hailed from Alaska.
What brought so many young people together was the chance to experience victimless debauchery en masse—surely there is nothing wrong with that. It was the chance to drink excessively, party hard and experience a near unbridled freedom on a level that the normal Madison weekend is unable to offer. And I hope I don't sound too intolerably pretentious in saying that the Halloween of old was a unique opportunity to dull the jagged blade of omnipresent alienation, loosen the choke-hold of suffocating responsibility and at least get one's feet wet in the waters of apolitical rebellion. If nothing else, it was a damn good time.
Sure, there were plenty of nuisances and even distresses—racist costumes, sexual harassment and enough bro-ish behavior to tire out most Greeks—but none of these unsavory aspects disappeared with the changes, anyway.
As with so many good things that involve mass participation without state sanction, the authorities decided that the Madison Halloween, if too large to destroy, needed intense regulation. I never experienced the ""riots""—i.e. a few broken windows—that the local media decided were so decisive in the pre-Freakfest years; I was only left with the stifling response. During the Halloween of my freshman year, University Housing first barred guests from the dormitories (we had to show IDs to get into our own homes), law enforcement was as ubiquitous as grass and stadium lights showered State Street, making everything visible as if to signify that the shadow of the authorities was everywhere during the festivities.
This was the last year before admission began being charged; it was the end of an era. According to the official story, the once again uncontrollable nature of the crowd forced the city to end Halloween as we knew it; according to most who were there on that early Sunday morning that erupted into violence, the cops unleashed brute force onto an energetic but peaceful crowd. As bar time released thousands more drunken revelers onto an already packed State Street, the cops, most of whom were dressed in riot gear or sitting atop horses, began marching up and down the road aggressively pushing people onto the sidewalk.
The immediate effect of this unnecessary maneuver was to instill an attitude of detestation toward the cops; the crowd had been nothing illegal, unless boisterousness is a crime.
yes""> As the cops became more and more hostile, the crowd became more confrontational and silly, alternating chanting, ""Fuck the pigs!"" and ""USA!"" Finally, the police retreated to Library Mall; many stupidly assumed the students had ""reclaimed"" State Street. I recall one of my more astute (and less intoxicated) friends saying something like, ""This isn't over. This is about to get a lot worse."" Sure enough, within a minute or two, hundreds of cops started charging down State Street, launching tear gas bombs, spraying pepper spray, striking anyone too slow to get out of the way. The combination of thick poisonous gas, thousands of students lying on the ground crying, choking and coughing and the endless onslaught of uniformed men created an atmosphere that felt like a war zone. Hundreds were arrested.
Remember, this vitriolic police behavior was not provoked.
The rest, as they say, is history. Mayor Dave, an idiosyncratic proponent of blending the nanny state and police state, led the way in remaking the Madison Halloween into the tightly-controlled spectacle that it is today. Starting in 2006, partygoers were charged a $5 admission fee and State Street was ringed with a fence. Corporate sponsors, crappy has-been bands (this year features Third Eye Blind) are now part of the fun. Unsurprisingly, attendance has plummeted.
The Downtown Coordinating Committee has added insult to injury this year by pretending to want meaningful student input in the planning for this year's Freakfest. Here's my suggestion: Make State Street a public place again. Return it to the students on Halloween weekend. In absence of that, I'd recommend most do what I've done for the last two years: Stay home.
Kyle Szarzynski is a senior majoring in history and philosophy. We welcome all feedback. Please send responseses to opinion@dailycardinal.com
