For one Saturday each October, the oak-shaded grounds of Bogue Falaya Park in Covington fill with small superheroes, glittery princesses and the occasional good-natured pirate. This year the tradition continues on Oct. 17, when the Monster Mash returns from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m.
The event is a kid-centric trick-or-treating festival hosted by the St. Tammany Health Foundation, and it has been woven into the Northshore's fall calendar for decades. A trick-or-treat village lines the park, while carnival rides, games, music, crafts and cookie decorating fill out the afternoon. Admission is $15 for children in advance or $20 at the gate, and $5 for adults. Proceeds benefit the St. Tammany Health System Parenting Center, the hospital-affiliated program that has been offering local parents and children tools to grow together as a family since 1987.
The Monster Mash's longevity is unusual for a fundraiser of its kind. By 2021, when Metairie Bank Northshore presented the event, it was already in its 33rd year. That continuity is part of why it draws families year after year: it is a Halloween experience built deliberately for younger children, more sparkly princess than haunted house.
But the corner of the park that has drawn the most attention in recent years is the Sully Sensory Pavilion, a space designed with children on the autism spectrum in mind. It is the work of Sunny McDaniel, a nurse practitioner, member of the St. Tammany Health Foundation board and mother of a son on the spectrum. The pavilion takes its name from him: Sullivan.
McDaniel has hosted the pavilion for the past three years, and she prepares for it for months. Every activity is researched with intention. Kiddie pools are filled with dried corn kernels for digging, which builds fine motor and social skills. Slime stations are set up to accommodate all levels of communication, turning a messy craft into an exercise in back-and-forth interaction. There is a quiet space for watching a low-stimulating cartoon movie, photo opportunities and other Halloween-themed experiences.
"It's all about the method to the madness," McDaniel said. "There is evidence-based research that sensory play can build a lot of parts of your nervous system."
The reasoning behind the pavilion is straightforward. A crowded festival with music, costumes and long candy lines can be overwhelming for children on the autism spectrum, who may need a reprieve from the party. The sensory pavilion gives them a place to participate on their own terms, or simply to step away and reset before rejoining the fun.
McDaniel's perspective is both professional and personal. She practices at Strawberry Patch Pediatrics and has spent years advocating for her son, who was diagnosed with autism at age two. Sullivan no longer needs the accommodations the pavilion provides, but his mother knows how vital inclusive events are for families still navigating those challenges.
"It is not an intellectual disorder," she said. "When you isolate and you put people in a box, you smother them and their lights dim, and they don't ever see their full potential because they don't follow the same path as everybody else."
Her advocacy reaches well beyond the park. As a medical professional, McDaniel designed sensory bags for autistic patients to help them better navigate doctor visits, and she has worked to create and fundraise for programs that improve how St. Tammany Health System cares for patients with autism.
"She has chosen to champion the needs of patients with autism by working to not only create, but fundraise for programs that continuously improve how St. Tammany Health System cares for these patients," said Nicole Suhre, executive director at the St. Tammany Health Foundation. "But she doesn't just focus on what's happening within the walls of our locations, she takes her show on the road! Monster Mash is the perfect example."
For McDaniel, the stakes extend far past a single autumn afternoon. She describes her work as building toward a future in which children on the spectrum grow into adults who can thrive on their own, decades down the line.
"My biggest worry is what happens when I'm not in this world?" she said, echoing the concerns of many parents in her position. "I worry about when my son is 70 years old and needs to go down to the hospital, and is he going to be taken care of and taken care of with dignity."
That long view is what makes the Sully Sensory Pavilion more than a corner of a festival. It is a place where, for a few hours, fun doubles as development, and where a community's willingness to rally around its members on the spectrum is put into practice.
The setting itself carries some history. Bogue Falaya Park sits on the eastern edge of downtown Covington along the banks of the Bogue Falaya River. For generations of Northshore families, it has been the backdrop for the season's biggest children's celebration.
This year's Monster Mash runs Oct. 17 from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. at Bogue Falaya Park, 213 Park Drive in Covington. Tickets and more information are available through the St. Tammany Health Foundation, and proceeds support the Parenting Center's mission of promoting confidence and competence in parents while encouraging optimal development for their children.