Welcome to The Saw’s Butcher Shop! And welcome to ‘Story Time, with The Saw’. This is where the curtain of razor-sharp barbed wire and blood-soaked leather is pulled back and you, The Butcher Crew, get a glimpse of Your Master Butcher; no alter-ego, no sharp instruments, and no torture devices.

Halloween in the Mountains of NC

Our story, today, takes place many years ago when I was just a baby Saw, on vacation with my parents and brothers. We were having family time – on a trip to (Haunted) Tweetsie Railroad in the mountains of N.C. during Halloween. The train was decorated like a skeleton, glowing in the dark, blowing black smoke. I remember seeing only ghosts, ghouls, zombies, undead cowboys and Indians and, at night, it was really dark!

Toward the end of the night, my dad decided to take my brothers through the haunted house. They were young and needed an adult to go with them. And, against my mom’s better judgment, he decided to take me through with them. Like I said, my OLDER brothers were young, so The Saw was just a little baby Saw (around 2 or 3). In fact, my dad carried me through, and I don’t remember anything striking about most of it; it was nothing different from my usual experiences that night.

The ‘Haunting’ House

However, one experience in there that night has scarred me for life! We were walking down a dark hallway that had a small table and chair, with a picture on the wall over the table, on one side, and a huge mirror directly across the hall on the other side. As we walked down the hall, passing the table, chair, and picture on the right, we did not have a reflection in the huge mirror on the left! My dad stopped in front of the mirror and said, “This is awesome!” You could see the table, chair, and picture in the reflection, but not us!

At that moment, a witch stepped out of the “mirror” (it turned out to be a trap! It LOOKED LIKE a mirror, but wasn’t!)! I freaked-out and tried to get away, climbing up over my dad’s shoulder and clawing toward his head! The witch felt bad for scaring me and started to reach for me saying, “Oh, I’m sorry.” Which scared me even more! And my dad wasn’t trying to get away! I was shaking and crying. And my dad FINALLY got us out of there!

Scars Without Regret

This experience, I think, has formed and framed The Saw, the Host of The Saw’s Butcher Shop. My tendency has been toward the darkness and the things that scare you. I love haunted houses and Halloween; horror movies and horror music. Though my experience that night all those years ago was terrifying, it has informed part of who I am today. And I am no longer afraid. Fractured psyche much?!

BTW, my dad to this day feels bad for that early experience. He didn’t think a Tweetsie Railroad Haunted House would ever be THAT scary. “It was a very good set-up,” he says. “Out of the myriads of haunted houses I’ve been through, that hallway was one of the coolest props I’ve ever seen.” But, no regrets! That night, though scarring, has helped make me who I am. Our scars sometimes identify us.

Stay Metal,

THE SAW