It's 1989. I'm sitting wide eyed, staring at the TV. I'm wrapped up in my sleeping bag on the living room floor too scared to blink. My dad's laughing so hard that it's shaking his chair. We're watching Friday the 13th and Kevin Bacon just suffered an arrow violently jammed through his throat. Despite my initial terror, I came to live, laugh, love horror films just as my dad did. Now I produce them with my company, Salem House Films.