Halloween

October 31, 2019

Even when our children were little, Linda hated Halloween. We often had intense conversations over who would stay home to hand out candy to all the little urchins who would appear at our door, and who would take our own costumed critters around the neighborhood to scarf whatever they could from fellow townspeople. Living in the center of town with a convenient loop up East Avenue, across Mitchell and down Church Streets before returning along Park St, it wasn’t unusual for us to have upwards of 250-300 kids knocking at our door. We never were able to balance the kids’ take with the outlay of candy we forked over each year. Our only consolation was that the mini goblins who trudged up our walk didn’t get much for their efforts. No chocolate bars at our house!

In our neck of the woods, today’s Halloween is tame compared to forty years ago. Tires burning in the middle of the intersection, toilet paper draped over the telephone wires, pumpkins smashed in the streets, Crisco on car door handles, were commonplace, alongside the occasional vandalism. A November 1st sun always rose on a litter-strewn village, but it was mostly cleaned up by the end of the week. Strangely enough, all this disappeared when our boys went off to college. Odd coincidence!

All through those years, Linda hated Halloween. To her, it was a necessary evil. Occasionally I dressed up myself to scare the little spooks who appeared at our door. One year, I donned a sheet with holes cut out for eyes, sat down in the dark behind the solid panel of the storm door with flashlight and candy bowl. When this one little kid appeared, I slowly rose into the glass portion of the door, flashlight at my chin, throwing shadows on my ghostly features. Looking back, I feel a bit convicted at the fright I inflicted upon that child as his eyes got big as saucers before he turned and ran back down the sidewalk. 

For the past few years however, we’ve both changed our tunes. I no longer scare little kids, and Linda has taken to enjoying the evening by hosting a gathering for f few young families, friends of our children. They start drifting in about six o’clock, staying for a couple hours drinking hot and cold cider and coffee, and eating donuts, cookies, and Timbits. This year, instead of hiding their Halloween candy around the house for a scavenger hunt, Linda had the kids do funny stunts, including dancing with a parent, hopping like a bunny, or in the case of granddaughter Eliza and her friend Emiley, giving their mothers big hugs, something these two confirmed “Never Express Any Public Affection” girls would only do under duress. 

It was a delightful evening, devoid of the dark and sinister elements that so often accompany this celebration of death, and I am thankful to have been able once more to pass the evening in the company of young people and their families, laughing and sharing our lives with one another.