DOUGLAS - At the turn of the century when J.D. Forrest Richards, president of First National Bank and son of a Wyoming governor, built his handsome home here, he probably never imagined the gracious walls would someday house an endless array of Halloween haunts.

But each Halloween for the past 14 years, owners Mary and Harold Jamieson have gutted the living floor, hauling out furniture and antiques, taping thick cardboard to the hardwood floors and black plastic over the period wallpaper.

Stone wrap surrounds the lower walls, creating a dungeon-like atmosphere. Skeletons leave their spiny footprints throughout the halls, glowing in the dark. Spooky, chilling decorations come out of the basement by the boxful, and a haunted house is born.

The annual production has long roots. Mary Jamieson first created a haunted house out of her garage in California, instantly taken with the ability to gently scare - the good kind. Kids flocked to her home.

"There wasn't really a whole lot for kids to do on Halloween night," she said. Now, she offers a way to keep children off the streets for good, clean fun - and as many hair-raising frights and blood-curling screams as they can handle.

The yard is perfectly suited for spine-chilling frights. A waist-high hedge encases the corner lot, broken only at the front walk. As you step onto the property, leaves crunch beneath your soles. Overhead, two looming blue spruces flank the walk. Scattered throughout the lawn are tombstones where the dearly deceased rest their heads. Some get a bit unruly, of course, as evidenced by bones sticking up here and there, a full skeleton glowing at the tree base.

"I love it when they (guests) come up to the hedge and turn, and run back to the car," Jamieson said with a chuckle. Most return clutching a steady adult hand, ready to brave the frights within.

Inside, for those brave enough to dare, tombstones line the dungeon walls, some three-dimensional, one with a sinewy skeletal hand snaking from beneath - a favorite decoration of the family cat, Jamieson said. A planter is lined with skulls, home to two black roses. A deadly black widow, the size of a grapefruit, dangles overhead from the maze of cobwebs. The few scattered lamps are eerily shrouded in dark, lacy cobwebs, giving just enough illumination to catch a horrifying eyeful of jars of body parts.

New this year, Jamieson will allow guests to traipse through the dining room, previously just for looks. A skeleton family, still adorned in colorful clothing, reclines at the monstrous old table. A grim reaper holds his place in the corner, as special black light flicker bulbs in the candelabra cast a freakish glow to the macabre scene.

A life-sized French maid, in full uniform, rests in the hall corner with a platter of a bloodied skull. She's complemented by a butler eerie enough to send chills down your back, beckoning unsuspecting folks his way. Turn away, and you're swept into new swells of fear by a skeleton dangling upside-down, tied by his ankles to the ceiling.

"My husband keeps telling me it used to be a Nebraska fan," Jamieson joked, gesturing at the lost soul.

On Halloween night, Jamieson has seven to nine friends help out, all donning scary costumes. "I tell them nothing princess-y," she said. "It's got to be scary, and gruesome."

She evolves into a wart-ridden witch, with a long, crooked nose, tall black hat and a greenish tint to her skin, and sits in a chair in the front room, manning a bubbling, foggy cauldron with a long leg bone. Children approach her, most of the time, for a handful of candy and an apple. Her helpers come as vampires, ghouls and grim reapers, even a 6-foot-7 Frankenstein with knobbies protruding from his thick neck.

For about four years, Jamieson's sister, Patty Brown, has traveled from Arkansas to be part of the frightful family occasion. Her favorite guests? Those older, preteen boys, who act brave and walk right in, passing her hideous costume without a second glance, assuming she's part of the scenery. Then, she makes a little motion, reaches out a hand … and "they just fall apart," she said with a giggle.

Last year, 650 costumed visitors cautiously explored Jamieson's haunts, from tiny toddlers in princess and Batman gear, to adults wanting their annual horror fix. Jamieson estimates she doled out more than 100 pounds of prime Halloween treats. Many are return guests, and Jamieson never charges a dime. After all, this is her party, too.

If you go…

Mary and Harold Jamieson's haunted house at the corner of North Fourth and Cedar streets in Douglas is open only on Halloween night, from 5 p.m. to 9 p.m. Admission is free.