In an era of technological advancements that challenge the things we’ve believed to be true for centuries, civilized society is coming to terms with a reality once thought to be merely a fairytale: Witches are everywhere.
That includes the gazebo in the park in downtown Bedford, where a dozen women gather twice a month. Some are fully witched out. Others are dressed more casually, with jeans and a pointy hat. But all are there for a good time.
Michelle Swiniarski is one member of a group called the Crooked River Crones. It’s a social organization of ‘witches’ who do charity and community improvement work. They’re not up to any incantations: It’s pretty much just a spooky-themed cosplay.
“We all wear witchy type outfits …some are clichés, some are more modern, and we all have brooms,” Swiniarski said.
Gather ‘round the cauldron
The Crones are not religiously affiliated and one needn’t be into casting spells to take part. All you need is to be a woman over 50 (for indeed, “crone” is a technical term referring to witches of a certain age) and have an interest in hanging out with other women who want to better the community.
Covens as social groups have blossomed in recent years, Swiniarski said.
“There's a ton of groups. They're all over. There's some in New York… There's some in Pennsylvania, there's some in Michigan. They're all over the country. And they're also all over Germany too, 'cause it started in Germany,” she said.
When Swiniarski refers to Germany, she’s not just referencing its bewitching claim to fame as the birthplace of the folklore and history of witches. It’s also the origin of the song “Schüttel deinen Speck,” – which translates to “shake your bacon” – a 2008 Euro-club banger.
The song caught fire in the coven community after a group of German dancing witches went viral with their choreography of the catchy polka-electronic dance tune in 2016. Now, the song is the witch dance standard all over the world. With modern style and a fairly easy-to-learn set of moves, the organized line dance is like a unifying language for covens from all over.
Swiniarski is a member of Gemütlichkeit Cleveländer Musikanten, a popular Cleveland-area polka band. So, when she discovered a German song was burning up the world of witch dancing, she was more than ready to join the craze. With her musical background, she was a perfect choice to lead the Crooked River Crones’ dance team, the Twisted Witches.
Eyes on a prize
The witches are rehearsing their ‘bacon shaking’ in preparation for a unique opportunity to put the community on the map internationally, said Cora Higgins, a witch who goes by the moniker IsaCora.
IsaCora is the Supreme Witch (a real title) who runs the Sandusky Witches Walk every year. The charity event brings witches from all over the world to Ohio every October for a sort of parade and festival. Higgins said the small coastal town is the “Halloween capital of Ohio.”
“Last year alone, we had participants from four different countries, 13 states across the United States and 76 cities in Ohio,” she said.
Now in its 14th year, the walk is also a costume contest and a massive line dance.
Last year, someone noticed the event seemed to have enough witches on hand to potentially break the Guinness World Record for most witches gathering in one spot, which currently sits at 1,607.
Guinness has some strict requirements on witch costume elements — requiring participants to basically be dressed as the Wicked Witch of the West, with little room for creative interpretation. IsaCora said the Sandusky Witches Walk encourages people to think outside the magic box on costume elements and doesn’t like to limit people’s options.
“So we decided to not break a record, but to set two of our own, which means the largest witches costume contest,” Higgins said. “You don't necessarily have to have a hat. Some have a spider, some have a wig or something like that.”
The group already suspected they were conducting the world’s biggest witches’ dance.
“And we thought, 'Why not prove it?'” Higgins said.
A Guinness representative will be on hand to do the official count as the witches congregate in costume and then dance together to “Schüttel deinen Speck.” To be eligible for world record enshrinement, the group must be in a defined space, so the Witches Walk sourced 3,600 feet of bike racks to enclose the costume and dance area.
They expect 1,500 to participate in the dance and costume quest and upwards of 5,000 total attendees and spectators.
Fair is foul and foul is fair…
Though there’s an inherent spookiness and association with the supernatural, the energy at a witches dance is carefree and light. In addition to “Schüttel deinen Speck,” the Crooked River Crones dance to classic rock and songs with medieval chants. They’re also working on choreography to a new tune, “W.I.T.C.H,” by Devon Cole.
“It stands for Woman in Total Control of Herself,” said Lorraine Baughman, the group’s choreographer.
Like many in the group, Baughman had no connection to witchery, paganism or magic. She doesn’t even have a dance background. She just loves to dress up and has a knack for creating line dance routines. And she wanted to have fun with her friends.
Beneath the dancing is a more profound connection between people in need of community. That’s the case for Melody Jacobs, a 64-year-old from Mansfield, Ohio, who lost her husband.
“I'm a solo person. I travel by myself a lot. So for me to want to be with a group of people like this is out of my norm,” Jacobs said. “I think I just wanted to be with a group of people who want to get together and have positive energy.”
Though being a witch hasn’t exactly brought her closer to her remaining family, she has found a sense of both individualism and acceptance in the group.
“I'm the only one that does this in my family, so they all just call me the black sheep… but I don't care anymore at this point in my life. I have to be me. So that's who I am,” Jacobs said.
Roots in tradition
By trade, Higgins, the Sandusky Witch Walk organizer, is a hospice nurse and sign language interpreter. She sees a link to that in her witchy alter ego, IsaCora.
“Original witches were actually nurses … They were healers. So that's sort of where this came from,” said Higgins.
Today, almost anything can be linked to the conventions of witchery.
“A witch is a witch is a witch,” said Higgins. “We define that as ‘What does it mean to be a witch in the Western world?’ So when you think about a witch here, what does that look like to you?”
Much has changed since the world was terrified of witches and magic, but these modern hags see a real connection to the past, even underneath a veil of fun and charity.
“If you think about things that we say out there or we repeat, like ‘I've got this,’ ‘You can do it.’ We're repeating these things every day,” Supreme Witch IsaCora said. “That could be considered a spell.”
The Sandusky Witches Walk happens Saturday, October 18, in downtown Sandusky. More information is available at https://www.sanduskywitcheswalk.com/