Today I'm remembering way back...okay...way way back...to when I was young enough to go trick or treating.
When I was young, I lived in a small and wonderful town in the hill country of South Carolina on the North Carolina line in Cherokee Country. There are real seasons there, and Halloween was always cold.
Back then Halloween meant ghosts and goblins and things that go bump in the night. There was none of this fairy princess stuff. No Disney costumes or happy little cartoon characters. No. Halloween was the Day of the Dead and "tricks" happened as well as "treats."
Children dressed as scary things, the scarier the better!
The worst of the tricks, I think, happened to all of us with those horrid Halloween masks. The masks were hard plastic with very small eye holes and oftentimes no breathing holes at all, which meant there were hoards of children walking around the neighborhoods half-blind and slowly suffocating as they screamed "Trick or Treat" at the top of their lungs. The cold outside and the warm breath inside the masks also caused condensation, so your face would get damp and cold and you'd have to sneeze or cough and your nose would run.
Seriously. Those masks were breeding grounds for things more terrible than the undead.
Parents didn't go trick-or-treating with their kids back then. They stayed home and gave out the candy.
Mama would make my brother, Gene, hold my hand, and off we'd go to scare people. I remember the thrill of thinking no one knew who I was beneath that mask, so I could scare them and totally get away with it. It was quite the rush to a little girl. I'd make roaring and growling noises and the adults would quake with fear causing me to laugh and laugh. So much fun!
Gene and I spent a good bit of time plotting and hiding behind trees to jump out at other kids and scare them. They'd scream LOUD and we'd squeal with laughter and run before they figured out who we were.
It was very dark outside at night back then in a little country town, so we'd often get away unknown. We laughed so much my stomach hurt.
We'd stagger around holding onto each other as we climbed the stairs to our neighbors' doors. We only visited the homes in our neighborhood, and we knew everyone we visited. We'd knock or ring the doorbells and yell, "Trick or Treat!" Gene and I would fight over who got to ring the doorbell. Truth be told, I still LOVE ringing doorbells. I would beg him, "PLEASE let me ring the next one!" and sometimes he would. Gene loved me.
We had plain paper bags to hold our candy. We'd get what we thought was a LOT of candy, about a lunch-sized bagful, and then we'd head home to compare our loot and eat ourselves sick.
Once we arrived home, the negotiations would begin. "I'll trade you six Mary Janes for your Candy Cigarettes."
Halloween was mostly about fun, back then. No razor blades in apples. No poisoned candy. No worries about such things until I was older and people were meaner and had more time on their hands.
Halloween was never as much fun after Gene got too big to trick-or-treat and my younger sister got big enough to go instead. I prefer those Halloweens with just Gene and me. I will always remember those.
Here's wishing everyone a wonderful Halloween like those today. Treat the little monsters who come to your door, be afraid (!) and enjoy yourself. There will never be another Halloween quite like today.
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