He's an engineer, an artist, a psychologist, an actor, a Halloween fan with a sense of humor and, in his words, "a loon."
Every October, Tjader transforms his spacious front deck into the Haunted House of Moss Beach, by dipping into his knack for building, pneumatics, the human body and creation and manipulation of surroundings and atmosphere.
 Rob Tjader hangs out with some of his "friends" inside the haunted house he builds on the deck of his Moss Beach home every year. |
It's full of spooky adventure and all the scary surprises of an old horror flick. But look closer: you'll see that pure Halloween fun and a drive to help others also lurk there.
Enter if you dare, and follow the signs. You'll encounter skeletal residents, Tjader's floating version of the Coastside's ghostly Blue Lady, cobwebs and musty shreds of burlap hanging from walls that seem to be getting narrower, closing in.
"As soon as you feel your shoulders dropping with relief, that's when (surprises) come in," Tjader said happily.
Grisly body parts emerge and ghouls jump up for a closer look at you, all illuminated by strobe and black lights. And you might hear a whisper out of a dark corner.
"You'll know something is alive in the house but you won't know when or where," he promised.
It's scary - but it's fun scary. Tjader notes that the experience is recommended for children over the age of 8, and he tones down the special effects for timid young ones. The whole idea here, he said, is not to be terrified but to have fun being scared out of your wits.
"This year it's not so much about scare. I want to make it more visual, so you can slow down and enjoy it," he said. "I don't want people so freaked that they bolt through it. Take a moment, slow down and enjoy it.
"I try to make it more cool, like 'Pirates of the Caribbean,'" he said.
A witchy apparition at the door warms you up for the experience. That's Tjader's new wife Sophie under the costume. She runs the front and paces the flow of visitors (only one or two go in at a time). They were just married Oct. 14, which is why the house opened a little later this year. But, as newlyweds, they'll run the house through Halloween.
Also at the door, you'll see a donation box for UNICEF, the haunted house's customary beneficiary. Donation is on the honor system.
"I hope people find it inside themselves" to give, Tjader said. "The idea of this is to keep an energy of giving. We're having a great time, and I hope people will give a donation for kids who don't know how to have a good time."
Tjader certainly does. "I'm a kid who gets the best slice of the pie," he said with a grin. "I can justify this as work and play."
His garage is perhaps scariest of all. It's stuffed with props in the making: chunks of PVC pipe help bring skeletons to life, piles of cotton for webs, burlap for atmosphere and equipment for the new pneumatic system that will power the props. There are also a few rubber skeletons - flawed models discarded by medical schools.
"If I had the budget of Disney, I could go whole hog," he said wistfully. "I try to put in as much as I can."
But he has "that supreme gift of the artist - the knowledge of when to stop," as author Sir Arthur Conan Doyle put it. "I don't want so much it feels hokey," he said.
Balance, and a firm grounding in reality, are key in Tjader's life outside the haunted house.
The son of jazz legend Cal Tjader, he grew up around music. His mother, Pat, was "a great decorator," whose eye he inherited.
His childhood teachers knew who his father was. But to them, he insisted he was "just Rob."
"My father accomplished things to be proud of, and I am," he said. "But I want to have fun too."
He dreamed of playing music himself, like his idol Carlos Santana. But an accident at age 21, when his hands were crushed by heavy marble he was using in work, postponed that dream. He has worked for 22 years as a securities trader with Franklin Templeton in San Mateo.
But with Pat's death in 2004, he entered a "new gear" dedicated to making every moment count.
"It's another new awakening of how precious the time line is that we're on," he said. "I'm finding more ease in going after that to-do list. All the things I wanted to do - do. Go after 'em."
He brushed aside doctors' predictions that he couldn't play music and, needing an outlet for his analytical day job, took up the timbales, guitar and bass. His first impromptu jam session with musician friends was "a defining moment" for him. Since then, he has played music - just for himself.
"This is just for myself, for fulfillment and to prove to myself that I can do it," he said.
He and Sophie are also thinking of starting a family.
"I'm assuming the role I'm supposed to," he said. "This kid is definitely alive."
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AT A GLANCE
What: Haunted House of Moss Beach
Where: 601 Kelmore St., Moss Beach
When: Wednesday through Saturday evenings and Halloween night
Cost: Free. Donations for UNICEF welcome
Information: hauntedhouseofmossbeach.com
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