Haunted Hayride Noise Ordinance Caps Screams at 85 Decibels After 9 P.M.

SPOOKY HOLLOW — The Town Council voted 5–2 Wednesday to cap haunted hayride screams at 85 decibels after 9 p.m., following a season of complaints from residents who described the nightly shrieking from Grimsley Farm’s “Terror in the Corn” attraction as “structurally unsound sleep conditions.”

The ordinance requires the farm to station a “Scream Marshal” at the ride’s midpoint with a calibrated decibel meter. Riders exceeding the limit receive one warning, delivered via bullhorn by the marshal, and a second offense results in what the ordinance calls “a firm but supportive conversation about indoor voices.”

“We are not anti-scream,” stressed Councilwoman Patty Nguyen, who cast the deciding vote. “Screaming is the backbone of the autumn economy. But there is a difference between a spirited 75-decibel yelp and the 104-decibel sustained wail we logged on October 12, which set off a car alarm and, according to one affidavit, ‘startled a sleeping infant in the next township.’”

Grimsley Farm owner Doug Grimsley called the rule “unworkable,” noting that fear is involuntary. “You can’t legislate the human larynx in the presence of a man with a chainsaw — a fake chainsaw, no chain, fully disclosed in the waiver. The screams are the review. Nobody leaves a five-star review that says ‘I maintained 82 decibels throughout.’”

As a compromise, the council approved the farm’s proposal for “quiet cars” — the last two wagons of each ride, designated for riders who prefer to experience terror “at a library-adjacent volume.” Bookings for the quiet cars, Grimsley admitted, “sold out immediately, mostly to grandparents.”

Scream Marshal training, held over two evenings at the fire hall, covers decibel meter calibration, “compassionate bullhorn technique,” and the fine art of distinguishing a rule-breaking scream from “a sneeze that got away from someone.” Graduates receive a reflective vest, a laminated warning script, and what Nguyen called “the hardest job in autumn: telling a terrified teenager to bring it down to a 7.” The first marshal, retired teacher Barb Ellison, described her debut shift as “bus duty, but the bus is haunted and moving.”

The “quiet cars” — the last two wagons, reserved for low-volume terror — have been such a success that Grimsley is considering a fully silent “mime hayride” for next season, in which the monsters communicate “entirely through gesture and meaningful eye contact.” Bookings for this year’s quiet cars sold out in 48 hours, mostly to grandparents and, Grimsley noted, “one couple on their third date who said screaming ‘felt like too much commitment.’”