Michigan man carves out pumpkin niche
FRANKFORT, Mich. — The son of a truck driver, Ed Moody did not have a lot while growing up in Battle Creek, Mich. The seasons downshifted and there were bumps in the road. Until Halloween.
All five of the Moody children were given pumpkins.
“We were a poor family,” Moody says during a conversation in the tiny northern Michigan town of Frankfort, near Traverse City. “We had milk on the table. Beans and oatmeal. And not much else.” Moody offers a smile that floats across the room like a falling leaf. “But we did have a pumpkin we could carve for Halloween.”
(Courtesy of Nicole Bruskewitz)
Films include “Away We Go,” directed by Sam Mendes and featuring Michigan resident Jeff Daniels, and “Trouble the Water,” a documentary about aspiring rap artist Kimberly Rivers Roberts, who was trapped in New Orleans by floodwaters from Hurricane Katrina.
The 330-seat Garden Theater has been in operation since 1923.
Festival tickets are $35 a person for the weekend or $8 a film. For a complete schedule and more information, visit frankfortgardentheater.com.
Moody, who turned 60 on Friday, has carved 23 giant pumpkins — weighing more than 200 pounds — that sit in his front yard.
It is a Halloween Stonehenge.
Around this time of year, Moody’s house is one of the biggest tourist attractions in Michigan. More than 50,000 pumpkin fans — 5,000 on Halloween weekend — will visit the Moody homestead.
A dozen smaller pumpkins line the porch of Moody’s 93-year-old wood frame house at 722 Leelanau Ave., near downtown Frankfort.
His pumpkins are Michigan grown, with most of the big ones coming from the Michigan Giant Pumpkin Growers group. They’ve been growing since April.
During my visit, Moody was carving a 1,489-pound pumpkin. He installed a small back door so kids could climb in.
The Michigan state record is 1,478 pounds. The world record is 1,658 pounds, announced earlier this week at the 36th annual World Championship Pumpkin Weigh-Off in California.
Moody’s pumpkin is ineligible for Michigan’s record because it has a split in it.
“If you can put a straw into the cavity of the pumpkin, it can be weighed for exhibition only,” he says. “People have cheated. It’s like catching a fish in a contest and dropping five pounds of lead down its throat. It has happened.”
Totally unsmashing.
Moody was your typical pumpkin carver until 1997.
“I had dreamed of a Cinderella carriage,” he says. “I found a pumpkin on Old Mission Peninsula that was 590 pounds. I built a wooden carriage using wheelchair wheels and set the pumpkin on the carriage.”
Moody’s dream has grown into an extravaganza with humongous pumpkins, a fake graveyard and orange lights that twinkle in the old maple trees of his front yard. He and his wife, Ingrid, greet more than 1,200 trick-or-treaters on Halloween.
“We give out full-size candy bars and Blow Pops,” he says. “Last year, full-size candy bars were advertised for 50 cents apiece. I couldn’t afford that. But Rite Aid had a sale three for 99 cents, limit of three. I say, ‘How strict are you on the limit?’ They said, ‘How many do you want?’ I say, ‘I’d like 1,000.’
“We’ve been buying candy bars for the last month,” Moody says. “And we’ll continue, even though my income has been cut.”
Moody refers to his pumpkins by weight in measured military fashion. There’s the “1,489” and the “1,289.”
Moody likes talking about the “1,489,” grown by Ken Sweet of Washington, Mich. Moody glances around the fat pumpkin with the twisted face and explains, “If you notice, this was cut on angles. That’s what I tell people with small pumpkins. When you cut on angles, as it dries out the top will not fall in. Use wooden toothpicks for replacing something you have cut off [like in the teeth].”
Moody used to draw a design on the pumpkin before he carved it. Now, he just lets each pumpkin’s shape and contour be his guide.
“I said, ‘Let ’em talk to me,’” Moody says. “That’s why they call me ‘Special Ed.’ Anyone who talks to pumpkins and says they talk back. ... What the heck?”
Moody will be carving a giant SpongeBob pumpkin in honor of his 4-year-old grandson, Trevor.
At the height of Halloween season, Moody gets two or three hours of sleep a night. Carving takes two to four hours. He uses a forklift to hoist large ones off pallets.
During Halloween week, Moody takes vacation from his job as electrical inspector for Grand Traverse County. He says his eye for detail plays into his artwork.
“I see a lot in pumpkins people don’t,” he says.
After Halloween, Moody takes a crosscut saw to his folk art and hauls the pumpkin debris to his father-in-law’s nearby garden, where it’s used as mulch.
Moody is to pumpkins what peat is to moss. How did this happen?
“When my son was a year old, I got tired of a five-minute pumpkin,” he says. “That’s nothing derogatory. That’s just how long they take me to carve, with the triangle eyes and notched teeth.”
Moody has experimented with routers, hand grinders and chain saws but says, “they just make messes and don’t give you detail.”
He only uses four knives. He customized a Chicago Cutlery knife by lopping off the sharp tip. He also deploys a boning knife, a paring knife and a $5 butcher knife.
He takes a pocket knife to an 881-pound green squash and offers me a small slice.
“It’s a blend between watermelon, cantaloupe and cucumber, with sometimes a squashy taste,” he says. “It wouldn’t be good in pie.”
Pumpkin pie is the logical next step.
If you’re making the 290-mile trek from Chicago to Frankfort to check out fall colors and pumpkins, Moody suggests a $4.95 slice of pumpkin pie at Manitou Restaurant, 4349 State Highway M-22 (231-882-4761).
Michigan State Highway M-22 is an excellent drive for fall foliage. It runs along Lake Michigan north from Frankfort through Leland, peaking at Suttons Bay before winding south to Traverse City. (Visit the Web site m22colortour.com, or call the Benzie County Visitors Bureau at 800-882-5801.)
Rick Schmitt, president of the visitors bureau, says Moody’s following is “far-reaching.”
“Many people come in, watch him carve, have dinner and many spend the night,” Schmitt says. “There’s backups on his street on Halloween night.”
Moody is proud of his special contribution.
”We’re a tourist-oriented town,” he says. “The more we can do to bring business to town, the better it is for our community.”