It’s all about what’s in the bag

My dear sweet Christian Mother did not like Halloween. She found it distasteful. Mom would never use the word hate, mind you. But I believe it was borderline there an October or two back in our formative years…

She was almighty down on witches, goblins, ghouls, and anything else that hinted of dark, mysterious spirits that sprang up to celebrate the Halloween season. Mom thought they were of the Devil, and they were sent from the underworld to scare, confuse, and cause mischief and mayhem among the innocent ones.

Leon, the oldest and smartest of us boys, tried to assuage her fears by reminding her, “Those haints, and ghosts, and things are all coming from the Cunningham house over on Elm Street. It is perfectly harmless.”

“Besides Mom,” Leon could cut right to the chase when he wanted to, “Halloween is not about witches, fiends, wild apparitions, and demons from down under. It’s about free Tootsie Rolls.” 

And he was dead right about that. We lived way out at the end of the road. Money was always in short supply. Mom brought home flour, sugar, pimento loaf, Crisco shortening, and sometimes hoop cheese. The basics. She didn’t waste shopping money on Baby Ruths, Three Musketeers, and Butterfingers.

Fast forward to Halloween. We put a sheet over our heads and marched towards town, holding a sack out on every front porch along the way. Mrs. Brooks was the first house. “Happy Halloween Leon, Kesley, and David, (our Casper, the Friendly Ghost, costumes didn’t fool anyone) hold those bags up so I can fill them with Tootsie Rolls and Candy Corn.” 

Listen closely here folks, when grownups are dropping free Snickers bars, Milk Duds, and Peanut Butter Logs into your hands, the last thing on earth you are thinking, or caring about, is ghouls, goblins, gremlins, and such! Mom didn’t need to worry.

We were way more into the “treating” than the “tricking” in this deal.

There was only one downside to the whole evening. When we got back to the house, Leon made us pour all our candy out on the braided rug in the living room. He would then divide the goods “evenly” among the three of us. He would take anything that resembled chocolate and give me and Dave the jawbreakers, red hots, and Sugar Daddys. 

When we grew too old to go house to house, we hurried up to the high school auditorium where the Halloween Carnival would be in full swing. I have no idea who put this on. It was probably the PTA. But none of us “youngins” who enjoyed the fruits of it will ever live long enough to properly thank them.

They had a booth where you could go fishing. For a fifteen-cent ticket, you could lift a pole over the paper wall and catch a prize… every time! Another ticket allowed you to pick up a duck waddling through a small waterway with a number on its bottom side. The number corresponded to a prize… again, you couldn’t lose.

We would play musical chairs. You could lose here unless you were the last guy standing… well, actually, it was the last guy sitting. I loved the cakewalk, even though it cost a quarter. I never won a cake… but the sheer anticipation of “almost winning” would have our little hearts pounding.

My favorite contest was the apple bobbing. There was an old Halloween legend that said the first woman to “pull up” an apple would be the first one to find a husband. Pam, Nola, Jane, Ruth Ann, and Brenda were fighting each other to get their heads under that water like life itself depended on it. You talk about a sight to behold! If the rules had allowed them to use their hands, we would have absolutely had some of that Halloween mayhem that Mother was worried about. 

You might think our Trick ‘r Treatin’ walk a bit mundane by today’s standards. You could dismiss our Halloween Carnival as a bit small-townish, or outdated, or simple, or even hickish. You would be dead wrong! King Solomon, in all his glory, never had such a good time. The Ringling Brothers and Barnum and Bailey combined never put on a show as grand as we had!

I can still see Mrs. Brooks’ loving hands, wrinkled and gnarled by years of hard work, dropping those Tootsie Rolls into our sacks. I can smell those cakes at the Carnival like it was yesterday. I still feel that apple bobbin’ water splashing on me as I leaned in to see which girl was getting a grip on an apple… 

I am so thankful for a town that cared enough to give us the very best!

And see how silly Mom’s fears were.

Of course, on the way home from the Carnival, Leon would be hiding in the hedges in front of the house across from the swimming pool. He’d jump out waving a doubled bladed axe at us, wearing that rubber face mask with the bloody hatchet stuck in the skull, and chase us all the way to the house screaming at the top of his lungs!

If you happen to run into Mom coming out of Woodrow Kennon’s store with a sack of Martha White flour under one arm and a can of Crisco in the other, please don’t mention that bloody mask to her….

Respectfully,

Kes