A Story Born from Imagination
In the heart of Portland’s Roseway neighborhood, a hauntingly creative Halloween tradition has taken root—complete with ghosts, vampires, carnival tents, and a backstory that feels like it’s been ripped from an old gothic novel.
The story begins in 1927, with a fictional tragedy: a traveling sideshow known as the Roseway Freakshow—featuring conjoined twins, a three-foot-tall performer, and a fire eater—meets a fiery end when lightning strikes, destroying the tent and killing the troupe. Buried in “Roseway Cemetery,” their spirits are said to rise each Halloween.
It’s all the imaginative creation of Kristin Kanan and her husband Ian Whaley, who live just blocks away from Portland’s real Rose City Cemetery. Their yard and street become the stage for this sprawling, story-driven production known as The Roseway Cemetery Show, a community event that blends spooky storytelling with neighborhood togetherness.
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Turning a Neighborhood Into a Stage
For the past four years, the couple has transformed their street into a Halloween wonderland. Throughout October, the Roseway Parkway—a divided, tree-lined stretch of homes—is adorned with tombstones, skeletons, and animatronic figures, culminating in a full-scale parade and finale on Halloween night.
On the Sunday before Halloween, hundreds of families in costume streamed down the parkway. Children and adults alike—dressed as everything from giant lobsters to K-pop demon hunters—waited in long lines to enter the couple’s yard, which had been transformed into a maze of eerie carnival booths, detailed props, and lighted sets.
Inside, visitors encountered a towering ticket taker that leapt 11 feet into the air, vampires peering from rooftops, and ghosts lurking in the fog.
“We do it because we love being creative,” Kanan said. “We love seeing everyone’s faces light up during the show.”
Battling Cancer, Keeping the Spirit Alive
This year’s show almost didn’t happen. In February, Kanan, 56, a finance and operations manager at a Portland nonprofit, was diagnosed with lung carcinoma, one of the most aggressive forms of cancer.
Despite undergoing 12 rounds of chemotherapy, 32 rounds of chest radiation, and 10 brain radiation sessions, she continued to help write, design, and build the Halloween display—often while recovering from treatment.
Kanan, now in remission, says her doctors estimate there’s about a 50% chance the cancer is gone for good. “This year was even more important,” she said. “There were moments I didn’t know if I’d make it to Halloween. But I did—and that makes this all even more special.”
Her husband Ian, who works in software quality assurance, took on the role of Nosferatu, the vampire who stars in this year’s story. Kanan plays his vampiric counterpart, adding a touch of theatrical flair to their homegrown production.
The Story Behind the Scares
Each year, the couple writes a new chapter in the ongoing Roseway Cemetery saga, which builds on the storylines of previous years.
The first year told the tale of witches who raised the dead to use as cheap labor. The following year, the reanimated corpses became performers in the Roseway Cemetery Freakshow. This year’s story centers on Nosferatu, inspired by the 1922 German silent film character, who tries to resurrect his lost love by taking over the freakshow.
The tales are posted online in installments throughout October, encouraging visitors to read the backstory before attending. Everything—from the towering columns to the hand-painted signs—is built and funded by Kanan and Whaley themselves.
A Community Tradition
Neighbors have embraced the event, decorating their own yards to extend the spooky atmosphere along the entire parkway. “They really brought the community together,” said Morgan Oyster-Sands, a friend who watched hundreds of people parade through the neighborhood.
Ten-year-old Luna Valentin, who has attended for four years, said this year’s haunt was her favorite. Dressed as La Catrina from Día de los Muertos, she described Kanan’s home as “like a carnival.” “I even got my fortune told three times,” she said, laughing.
The line outside the couple’s home stretched down the block as visitors waited more than an hour to enter. The laughter, squeals, and occasional screams created an atmosphere that was as joyful as it was eerie.
Finding Strength in Creativity
For Kanan, the Halloween show is more than just a neighborhood spectacle—it’s a symbol of resilience. Building the set and writing the story have given her something to look forward to during grueling months of treatment. “Working on this kept me focused on joy,” she said. “It was something beautiful to pour my energy into.”
She dreams of turning Roseway Parkway into a Halloween destination similar to Peacock Lane, the Portland neighborhood famous for its Christmas light displays. But instead of twinkling lights and holiday carols, Roseway would be filled with flickering pumpkins, ghostly laughter, and the thrill of a good scare.
The Show Must Go On
As Halloween night arrives, Kanan and Whaley’s yard once again transforms into a living storybook of the macabre. The couple’s dedication—despite personal challenges—has made The Roseway Cemetery Show a beloved Portland tradition, one that celebrates both creativity and community spirit.
And as the lights flicker across tombstones and children’s laughter fills the autumn air, one thing is certain: in Roseway, Halloween isn’t just about fear—it’s about hope, imagination, and the magic of seeing everyone’s faces light up.
