In most cities, Halloween is a one-night affair. In New Orleans? It’s a month-long masquerade, a neighborhood block party, a costumed crawl through history with voodoo vibes and a side of absinthe. But it didn’t start that way. Halloween in the Crescent City has evolved over the last century—from quiet, candy-coated evenings to full-blown haunted spectacles like Krewe of BOO!, where the dead parade, the living dance, and the line between trick and treat is deliciously blurred

Shadows cloak the grand old oaks, their limbs outstretched with waving arms, reaching for passersby with leafy hands. The moon glows ghostly overhead—an unblinking eyeball watching the dead of night. The winds carry a chill, like a breath from beyond, and summer is nearly gone. The bewitching hour is near. Autumn in New Orleans offers a cornucopia of celebratory feasts. The days no longer soak the skin in a sauna bath of steam.

When it comes to Halloween, most cities throw up a few plastic skeletons, string some orange lights, and call it a night. New Orleans? We build a full-on haunted spectacle with marching monsters, voodoo queens, brass bands, fire breathers, glittering ghouls, and a parade that makes Halloween feel like Mardi Gras in costume... oh wait, that’s every day here.

In most cities, Halloween is a one-night stand with candy. In New Orleans, it’s a full-blown, costumed love affair that lasts all October—and maybe even a little into November if the hangover’s big enough. But Halloween in the Crescent City isn’t just about scares and sequins—it’s a serious economic engine that pumps life into the heart of the city. From costume shops and cocktail bars to makeup artists and float builders, the Krewe of BOO! and its haunted entourage are putti

New Orleans may be known for its wild nights and haunted happenings, but Halloween weekend with the Krewe of BOO! isn’t just for the grown-up ghouls—it’s a family-friendly fright fest from start to finish. With dancing skeletons, spooky swag, costumed crowds, and candy galore, it’s a weekend your little monsters won’t forget (and neither will you).

In most places, cemeteries are quiet places of mourning. In New Orleans, they’re architectural wonders, haunted landmarks, and—when October rolls around—fashion inspiration. Welcome to the City of the Dead, where tombs are stacked like stone row houses, saints and sinners rest side by side, and spirits stroll casually through the fog. Our above-ground cemeteries aren’t just resting places—they’re a foundational part of our city’s mystique.

In New Orleans, catching things thrown at your head from a moving vehicle is considered a sport, a tradition, and a badge of honor. Beads, trinkets, toys—if it flies through the air during a parade, you want it. And while most folks associate throws with Mardi Gras, Halloween has officially entered the chat. Welcome to the eerie evolution of this classic Crescent City tradition, and how Krewe of BOO! took “Throw me something, mister!” and gave it a spooky-season spin.

The French Quarter may be paved with cobblestones and echoing jazz, but beneath that rhythm lies something older—something enchanted. Step behind the wrought-iron gates, past the flickering gas lamps, and you’ll find whispers of a magical sisterhood: the witches of the Vieux Carré. Some were revered. Some were feared. All were powerful. From voodoo queens and herbalists to potion-sellers and secret midwives, these mystical women helped shape the haunted, mysterious soul of Ne