Halloween 2007 and 1962

Halloween is over. It was a perfect night, cool but not cold, and about ½ after dark it started raining! My daughter and her friends and I made a quick retreat home and I built a fire. They got enough candy. It was light way too late now we’re still on Daylight Savings Time. This is another reason that I don’t think Congress should monkey with the time, but they didn’t ask me. I’ll just have to vote against ‘em. Anyway, here’s a picture of this year’s pumpkin and a story from my childhood about my first Trick-or-Treat experience.

I was Tony the Tiger, wearing a mask that I got by saving box tops from Frosted Flakes. My brother had on some kind of bear cartoon character mask and I don’t remember what my uncle had on. He was an old timer at this “Trick-or-Treat” stuff, we were just beginning. I was five years old. That night my mother took my brother and me by Bunches Store in Eastwood. It was our first stop and I think we got an apple. Then we went over to my grandmothers. Grandma drove, mom rode in the front seat while L, W and I piled into the back seat for the drive into town. Once there, my uncle lead my brother and I down the street, stopping at houses and shouting “Trick-or-Treat.” We were filling up our pillow cases fast. Then we stopped at this big old brick house. It looked haunted. Suddenly, three witches appeared at the door. My brother and I screamed “witches,” as loud as we could and ran back to my grandmother’s car that had been trailing us along the street. Out of breath, we began to tell about our narrow escape (Uncle L stayed back to collect the candy). My mother got out of the car and grabbed my brother with one hand and me in the other and started dragging us back saying that we had to apologize. No, we pleaded. I wondered if my mom was really a step-mom, like the one in Hansel and Gretel. I knew that when it came to witches, one couldn’t be too sure about mothers… “They’re not witches,” she kept saying, “and you need to apologize.” When we got back to the door, the women were laughing and gave us extra candy. It turned out that they were nuns, which didn’t make sense to me at the time, but I was finally reassured that they served God and not the devil. This happened about the time of Vatican 2, which meant nothing to this Presbyterian, but looking back on it, that was obviously the reason they were still in their black outfits and wearing habits.