After the Fact: ‘Tis another season

It was the year that Halloween as we’d known it crashed and burned. That someone would give apples laced with razor blades instead of treats was reason enough for some parents to just say “no,” while others could be cajoled into the “trick or treating,” but with the proviso that all candy would be checked when the kids came home.

We had just moved to one of the suburbs of Denver. Despite the fact that Chris’s new friend, Lita, seemed to know everyone in the neighborhood, I wasn’t very comfortable with allowing her to go out unsupervised. Johnny was just a toddler, way not interested in wearing a costume and not up to walking much further than the five or so houses up to the end of the block. And I got to carry him the same distance home. Well, the girls were intent on begging at every door in the whole town but figured around the block was going to be as much as they could wheedle. And I think that was the last time my children ever got to go “trick or treating.”

We’d plan fun activities to take the place of “trick or treating” on Halloween, like going to the movie or to some kid-friendly restaurant for dinner and games. The only people thrilled were our dentist and me. We did continue to make costumes because every classroom had parties: one year, Brad made child-sized traffic lights that lit up. Another year, they were outhouses. We never did buy a costume at WalMart. Possibly because Mr. Walton hadn’t opened his first store. 

As the years went by, more schools and more churches planned Halloween parties in an effort to discourage children begging door-to-door and even costumes reflect the hazards of today. Some costumes are not allowed and masks have been replaced with face paint, all of which keep our kids safer. There are undoubtedly fewer instances of outhouses being tipped over, too. Or sheep going for a ride down Lariat Road in the back seat of a red Chrysler Le Baron convertible.

We live too far out of town for tricksters and the only damage done to the decorations Chris puts out has been caused by weather. It’s her favorite holiday and, since I want to put the Christmas tree up on the day after Thanksgiving, I don’t complain when she starts putting things out almost sooner than the stores set up displays. We seem to leap from July to Halloween, then it’s a short hop to Thanksgiving and a baby step until Christmas. “Black Friday” sales now begin right after the turkey goes into the oven. 

My mom wasn’t much of a seamstress, but she came up with some nifty Halloween costumes for Micki and me, made of crepe paper. Our town didn’t have a “dry goods” store back then unless you count flour sacks. One year, I was “the Spirit of Halloween” with orange, yellow and black “leaves” cut from crepe paper, sewn to mom’s old slip that hung to my ankles. The wind came up as I walked home from school after the Halloween party. One leaf ripped away followed by another, and another, and another.  By the time I got to the end of our block, I was wearing only my mother’s slip decorated with shaggy remnants of the fall leaves. And underwear. I can’t remember what I wore to go “trick or treating” that evening, but it didn’t matter because it had already started to snow and we had to wear our winter coats anyway.

There are only a few Halloweens that I remember when it didn’t snow and as few Easter egg hunts that took place outdoors. It seemed to me that the very last egg was found as we were putting up the Christmas tree, but, on the other hand, the last of the tinsel that had fallen from the tree showed up when we were hiding eggs. The best thing about Halloween is that it doesn’t drag into the next holiday unless you freeze the left-overs.