This ghoul can’t seem to escape Nick Colavito’s creepy crypt. Photo by Michael V. Cusenza
He’ll turn 57 on Saturday, but Nick Colavito is a little kid around this time every year.
In a neighborhood filled with garish mansions and cars so expensive you can’t even pronounce them, Colavito’s house is one of the most famous in all of Howard Beach—perhaps all of Queens. That’s because every Halloween, people of all ages flock to his home on 84th Street near 161st Avenue in numbers so large—he estimates approximately 1,000 people—that last Oct. 31, Colavito said cops had to perform crowd control because cars could not traverse on either side of the two-way street.
Colavito’s elaborate installation is the talk of the neighborhood this time of the year.
Photo by Michael V. Cusenza
No he’s not giving away money. Yes he will be giving away candy. But the main attraction is Colavito’s abode, which annually is meticulously and painstakingly transformed into a haunted house, replete with life-sized mannequins of your favorite horror-film characters such as Michael Myers, Chucky and Frankenstein.
“The kids love it,” said Colavito, a postal worker for nearly three decades. “That’s the main reason why I do it…to give back to the community.”
A lifelong fan of classic scream-fests such as George A. Romero’s “Night of the Living Dead,” Colavito said he relies on his imagination to add something new every year to the installation that covers every foot of his front yard and façade of his home. And he’s been putting on this legendary exhibition nearly every year since he moved in 16 years ago.
“He’s the best in the business,” said Raul Lopez, a UPS driver who, like so many other pedestrians and drivers, stopped to gawk and capture cell-phone images. “It’s not about the money; it’s about how serious he takes it, how much he enjoys it.”
Colavito said he starts working on the project shortly after Labor Day; takes off from work the day before, day of and the day after Halloween; and tries to use only movie-quality materials.
As night started to fall on his famous home just two days before Halloween, Colavito looked down at his 4-year-old great-nephew, Frankie, his mouth agape, eyes dancing from ghoul to goblin. Then Colavito slowly brought his gaze back up with a smile.
“I enjoy making the kids happy, because life is too short,” he said. “As long as I see them happy, this is all worth it.”
By Michael V. Cusenza
