A story for Halloween.

A few weeks or so ago, as I am often to be found doing, I was reading an article in the New York Times Magazine. This particular article was about Damien Echols, one of the men known as the West Memphis Three, subject of the documentaries titled Paradise Lost, and erstwhile denizen of Arkansas's Death Row.

A bit of background, if you need it. Back in 1993, three 8 year-old boys were found horribly murdered in West Memphis, Arkansas. Three teenage boys were accused, tried, and convicted of the killings. Unfortunately, there was approximately zero to negative evidence that they actually did it. Instead of, say, evidence tying them to the crime, the prosecution relied on the following rubric: they wore black clothes, had long hair, and listened to music like Metallica. Therefore, they worshipped Satan. Therefore, they killed the children as part of a Satan-worshipping cult ritual.

This August, the State of Arkansas arranged a plea deal and the three men were set free after 18 years in prison.

Reading the article took me back to when I had first seen the documentary and it made a big impact on me. I am, or was, the same age as the boys who were murdered, but when I watched the film I was closer in age to its teenage subjects. It's a story I've kept up on over the years, though I hadn't thought about it in some time when I heard about the Three's release. With the increase in news stories, it's to be expected, I guess, that I've spent some time thinking about it now.

What I wasn't prepared for was the shock of realization and revelation that came to me about that period of time. You guys, do you remember back in the 80s and 90s when everybody was obsessed with devil worshipping? Do you remember that shit? I had kind of forgotten. But there was this case. There was the McMartin preschool case. I'm pretty sure at some point my sister insisted I watch Oprah have a very special episode talking about Satanism. I remember when my cousin was taking classes for her confirmation, and the priests told her class that the woods of South Jersey were crawling with crazy devil worshippers ready and waiting to snatch us up. She came home from one late-night meeting crying. Nevermind that among her friends were the very black-clad weirdos the clergy were probably envisioning.

At the time, I don't think I knew that there was anything wrong with this. When you're a kid, these things are always real. We rented way too many scary movies. I remember creeping down my staircase at night thinking, "It's not real. It's not real." about some malevolent force or another. I was convinced that some presence lived in my closet. When I saw this documentary, I had the definite sense that these kids were innocent. They were weird. I was weird. It was all a misunderstanding. But it never occurred to me that the premise of their prosecution, ritual Satanic murder, was unsound. They may not have done it, but such things were done. Everybody knew it was real.

Looking back at it now, I am horrified to the point of laughter. I can't believe that we all lived in a world where the mere suggestion was not the most batshit thing you'd ever heard. Not a child's world where this stuff was real anyway, but the actual adult world in which people believed this with a straight face.

I'm not sure when things changed. By the time I was in high school, the kids in black trench coats were suspected of plotting school shootings, not devil worship. I read that it might have to do with the religious right turning their attention on The Gays who, of course, aren't out to kill your children, just corrupt them and warp their minds. We are still lamenting society's turpitude, with reality tv and what have you, it's just that these now these degradations are characterized as the innate failings of individuals rather than the influence of external evil spirits.

I guess if you look at it solely in this context, that's almost progress.