ALONG THE WAY

We've gathered in the community center

Known simply as Spook Hall for the annual Volunteer Fire Department Halloween Dance, a Jerome tradition for more than three decades. All night a weird funky scene unfolds with snippets of brain-jangling imagery hinted at during strobe flashes. Is that Eddie Munster smooching Snow White? No way that's going to cheer up Grumpy.Edgar Allan Poe's grand-nephew, Matthew Poe, donating his time as bartender, pours me a glass of Coke. I tip a buck because I don't want him sealing me into a makeshift tomb in his wine cellar. Ha! I bet he never tires of hearing that one. The band launches into a scorching version of a Stevie Ray Vaughn tune, and a woman behind me says, "Ooh, I want to dance, but I'll have to take off my tail first." It doesn't strike me as the least bit odd.

I hit the moon-splashed streets where a zombie, a chicken and Spiderman are having a smoke. I swing into Paul & Jerry's Saloon for a game of pool. A guy with a hatchet lodged in his head trounces me. Any idea how embarrassing that is? I drown my sorrows with another Coke. The guy who serves me used to be mayor. A leprechaun shovels quarters in the jukebox while a man wearing a bathrobe cracks a skeleton's back. Welcome to Jerome.

Unless you're 8 years old and going door-to-door scoring sack-fuls of sugary swag, this is the best Halloween experience in the state. Other towns celebrate Halloween; Jerome marinates in the joyous indulgence of it.

"It's never too late to have a happy childhood," proclaims Jerome resident Deborah Mongeon, adorned as a bouquet of roses. "That's what brings people to Jerome in the first place, the creative energy and freedom to be yourself."

Spackled into the seams of the steep slope of Cleopatra Hill, Jerome teeters more than a mile in the air. The vertical burg established boomtown credentials back when the copper mines churned out a billion dollars' worth of ore. In the 1920s, some 15,000 toe-clenched residents sneered at gravity long enough to call Jerome their home. Yet the blasting in the mines and the network of underground tunnels took a toll as buildings collapsed and others slid down the hill. World War II marked the last copper boomlet, and already Jerome was falling into disrepair. When the last mine closed in 1953, the citizens scattered-all except a few dozen hearty and ornery souls who stayed put. They formed a historical society and began patching the scars and knitting the bones of this tumbledown town. They also declared Jerome a ghost city. During the 1960s, Jerome experienced a counterculture renaissance-a polite way of saying hippies moved in. They snapped up real estate on the cheap, opened shops, restaurants and art galleries and most importantly, injected Jerome with the relaxed, carefree vibe still prevalent.

Tombstone, another former mining camp-turned-tourist destination, bills itself as "The Town Too Tough to Die." Jerome's motto, if they ever bothered to adopt one, would probably run along the lines of "Dead, Schmed. Let's Party!"

When residents resurrected the fire department in the early 1970s, they threw a dance to raise money. These days the sprawling block party engulfs the town. Crowds flock to the festivities with many reserving rooms for the next Halloween before checking out.

"Almost all the buildings have ghosts or ghost stories. And everybody likes to party in a haunted town," says fire chief Terry Molloy. "Something about wearing a costume lets people get a little crazy. Not that they need an excuse around here."

Indeed. We've roared past midnight into the wee hours. On the street, Wonder Woman clomps past me in red platform boots complaining about aching feet and the fact that she's dated every eligible man in town. A harem girl laments bygone days when someone-perhaps in the throes of spirits more liquid than ethereal-would always try climbing the flagpole.

I encounter a pack of big-coiffed Elvises sporting matching jumpsuits waiting to squeeze into the Spirit Room where another band rattles the rafters. Every year all seven of them drive from Phoenix just to seize this night."

► when you go

Location: About 110 miles from Phoenix. Getting There: From Phoenix, drive north on Interstate 17 for 75 miles to State Route 260 at Exit 287. Turn left (west) onto State 260 and drive 14 miles to Cottonwood. In Cottonwood, turn left (west) onto State Route 89A and drive 10 miles to Jerome. Lodging: Connor Hotel, toll-free (800) 523-3554; www.connorhotel.com. The Jerome Grand Hotel, toll-free (888) 817-6788; www.jeromegrandhotel.net. Ghost City Inn, toll-free (888) 634-4678, (928) 634-4678; www.ghostcityinn.com. Dining: The Asylum, a self-described “restaurant on the fringe,” doesn't require guests to wear straightjackets, (928) 639-3197; www.theasylum.biz. The Haunted Hamburger dishes up juicy burgers and sandwiches along with flavorsome views, (928) 634-0554. Belgian Jennie's Bordello Bistro & Pizzeria specializes in Italian food, (928) 639-3141; www.belgianjennies.com. Things to Do: Re-creating tales from Jerome's violent past, the Jerome Historical Society conducts a ghost walk, (928) 639-1066; www.jeromehistoricalsociety.org. The Asylum Restaurant is lavishly and ghoulishly decorated the entire month of October and celebrates with a party on Halloween night, (928) 639-3197; www.theasylum.biz. The Volunteer Fire Department holds a Halloween Dance the Saturday before Halloween, (928) 649-3034; www.jeromefd.org. Get soulful during the annual Halloween dance at The Spirit Room, (928) 634-8809; www.spiritroom.com. Additional Information: Jerome Chamber of Commerce, (928) 634-2900; www.jeromechamber.com.