San Francisco loves an excuse to dress up, and at Halloween, whole blocks of neighborhoods get in on it. That feels like a particularly good way to get to know this city: walk down a street and see what happens when the neighbors give themselves permission to go a little further with whatever makes them wonderfully strange.
We’ve been going to Shotwell Street in the Mission for trick-or-treating for years. Even during Covid, the neighbors found ways to send candy down tubes to the kids, which tells you something about the commitment. The Victorian façades provide the setting, but the people behind the front doors have made it a tradition families return for.
Belvedere Street in Cole Valley has its own following, with past Halloweens bringing costumed performances in windows and movies projected onto buildings. The houses become part of the production, and the street becomes the audience. In Noe Valley, Sanchez Street’s Halloween strolls have extended the occasion into daylight hours for younger children, bringing another generation into the neighborhood tradition.
Across town, Lake Street in the Richmond/Lake Districts and Avila Street in the Marina give families more reasons to venture beyond their own neighborhoods. This year, we’re heading to Chenery Street in Glen Park with school friends, while also trying to make it to Somerset Street in our own Portola neighborhood, where families are putting their Halloween spirit on display.
These streets become destinations because residents keep showing up for the occasion. Decorations grow more ambitious, neighbors join in, and eventually multiple blocks become part of the annual Halloween route. It recalls the Candy Cane Lanes people visit during the holidays, although San Francisco seems particularly comfortable expressing itself through costumes and a little strangeness. And as the houses dress up for Halloween, ofrendas are being assembled for Día de los Muertos. Across October, the anticipation of both fills the neighborhoods, with theatrical displays and deeply personal acts of remembrance sharing this season in a way that feels very San Francisco.
An Ofrenda from my kids school
In the Mission, that anticipation is part of the neighborhood’s identity, and it reaches into family life across the city. Our children have known ofrendas since starting school in San Francisco. What was unfamiliar to me growing up in Los Angeles is already familiar to them: bringing out photographs, remembering what someone loved, making a place for a person who has died. A Mexican tradition with deep roots in the neighborhood has become part of what our children learn about remembrance, and something they bring home for us to talk about.
For anyone considering where to make a home, this is a revealing time to spend an evening in a neighborhood. The architecture and nearby shops are there on an ordinary visit. October offers a chance to see how residents participate, what families carry forward, and how much of that life is shared with everyone passing by. A street becomes somewhere a family returns each year, and children come back a little older, already knowing which houses they want to visit.
What makes October so compelling here is how much of San Francisco’s character radiates out into public life. Halloween and Día de los Muertos are distinct traditions, each given room for full expression, with neighbors and families making the preparations part of the season itself. The City’s affection for being outrageous exists alongside the care taken to remember someone who is still deeply loved.
This is San Francisco at its most expressive. The houses may draw you to a street, but the neighbors give you a reason to come back.
Photo by Marcelo Hawrylciw from Pexels
