Mom and Dad met on Halloween, at a dance they both attended while students at Ohio State University. If not for Halloween, I might not be here to tell my story...
Soon after turning the calander page to "October", I knew that any day, I'd walk home from school and spy the Ol' Witch by our front door, the indication Mom had decorated our house for Halloween! She loved Halloween and passed that macabre fascination down to me.
Yes, the first sign, seen at a distance, always quickened my step home. The stuffed figure of a witch dressed in black, complete with mask, matted scraggly wig, weather-beaten pointed black hat and tattered clothes was a familiar site. Her broom lay against the wall...ready for flight. Years later, Mom added a Deacon's Bench to our front porch and the Ol' Witch had a place to sit and rest her scary bones. It's a sight I'll always remember.
Mom had spent the better part of the day decorating the downstairs with black cats, witches, goblins and ghosts. I'd walk in the front door, drop my books and yell the usual,"Mom, I'm home!" I'd always find her in the kitchen, at the sink with her back to me. Entering the kitchen asking, "What's for dinner..." Mom would turn around and scare me with one of the many Halloween masks she had in her collection of stuff. I wasn't really scared, but pretended to be...then we'd laugh about it.
Trick or Treating was very different growing up in the 50's and 60's. There was never any fear of needles in the candy or any of the other atrocious things you hear of today. Our costumes were usually handmade whether it was a simple Ghost Sheet, Bloody Ghoul, Hobo, Gypsy or whatever struck our fancy that year. The gang would grab their pillow cases and scour the neigborhood for treats, return, dump the booty on some newspapers and hit the streets again, if it wasn't too late. We always packed a bar of Ivory Soap...the cadillac of soaps...for soaping the windows of the neighbors who wern't home. Also, a roll of toilet paper could be concealed in our pillow cases...this was popular to do their trees,tossing the roll over and over the branches. We were little devils. Stories were heard of the older boys concocking dead bodies,just rags stuffed in some old clothes and laying them in the street to cause mayhem.
My love of Halloween continues to this day. My yard is decorated as a Graveyard, glow-in-the-dark faces are seen on the trees. The eerie sounds of screams, rattling chains and banshees is heard; these Halloween "sounds" are being blasted from hidden stereo speakers...the perfect touch to my ghoulish yard.
The most fun I have is dressing up in my Grim Reaper costume, complete with sycthe and glow-in-the dark skeletal mask. I carry a white skull with little pieces of paper stuffed inside. As the parents approach with their children, I hand the grown-ups their "death date"... hehehe...You should see their faces! This is usually followed by my dramatic flair of pointing to them then giving them the old "slash your throat" routine. I never speak, it would ruin the effect. My intentions are never to scare the little beggers, I'll whip my mask off in a second if they appear the slightest bit afraid. But the know-it-all, seen-it-all kids, about age 9 and up, I must admit I do get a devilish delight in surprising them. Some avoid my home but the brave ones are happy to discover it is one of the best candy houses on the street.
If you're in the neighborhood this Halloween...do stop by!
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