The Halloweens of my youth
As I recall, Halloween used to last for weeks.
I鈥檓 74 years old. My memories of Halloween are about 65 years old. So, once again, to me, Halloween used to last for weeks.
At my age, embellishment-laced nostalgia is oh, so soothing.
Up there on Coolspring Street, we used to gather platoons of Halloweeners who鈥檇 fan out and knock on every door in the neighborhood 鈥� and beyond.
We had no fear of anything 鈥� except our bigger brothers and sisters who could wrest the bags of candy from our mitts as if they had done the work.
I鈥檓 not complaining. Well, yes I am!
My brother, Marlin, (he鈥檚 five years older than me) didn鈥檛 put on a mask, then suffer through the ritual of having some unsuspecting adults feign they didn鈥檛 know it was him under the stupid costume.
OK! It wasn鈥檛 really stupid. It was something I twisted my mother鈥檚 arm to buy me down there at G.C. Murphy鈥檚.
I just looked, and I see that in 1959, Murphy鈥檚 had a sale on Halloween costumes. I probably got one of the ones that went on sale for (between) 98 cents and $2.98. And my mother probably splurged and got me one of those plastic masks for 10 cents, or 29 cents.
You know, you鈥檇 wear it for about an hour, and you couldn鈥檛 stand the odor.
It all prepared me to go forth and, in effect, beg for candy.
Ah, candy.
If we were lucky, we鈥檇 knock on a door where they were handing out Snickers bars.
Snickers 鈥� the filet mignon of candies.
Nothing in our Halloween bag was more valuable. (Note: You just may think other stuff is more valuable. If so, write your own darned column.)
Candy bars and other sweet confections were welcome when we made our rounds.
Stuff like popcorn balls was not.
Let鈥檚 stop here a moment while I call for the abolition of popcorn balls.
Who invented those things, anyway?
I鈥檒l bet it was a Republican.
What I truly loved about Halloween was that it didn鈥檛 have many rules. (Serious felonies were prohibited. Everything else was OK.)
Think about it. In summer, many of us had to return to our houses when the streetlights came on.
But in the fall, and for Halloween, you鈥檇 LEAVE your house when the streetlights came on.
That鈥檚 one of life鈥檚 many mysteries, I suppose.
Ghouls and goblins don鈥檛 walk the earth in broad daylight.
It鈥檚 not in their union contract, I think.
When I say there weren鈥檛 rules, or laws that were generally applied to Halloween when I was a kid, part of it was the geography you could cover in a single night.
I can remember (I鈥檓 making this up), starting on Coolspring Street, and ending up in Charleston, West Virginia, by dawn. What鈥檚 even more incredible 鈥� I didn鈥檛 get a single popcorn ball.
And unlike with today鈥檚 Halloweeners, it seems as if we鈥檇 be out there on our nightly sojourns 鈥� begging for candy for weeks.
None of this one-night, one-hour stuff like today.
Back then, at either the State Theatre or the Manos, they had 鈥淏ig Halloween Show(s),鈥� where there were afternoons full of controlled mayhem downtown.
In October of 1957, the State offered 鈥渇ree candy鈥� for the first 100 kids.
If you showed up wearing your Halloween costume (I think there were probably a lot of kids dressed as hobos 鈥� 鈥檆ause they wore their older siblings鈥� cast-offs) you鈥檇 stand a chance of winning 鈥淏est, funniest, most original, etc.鈥� prizes.
There wasn鈥檛 a popcorn ball in the bunch.
Then, there was the show. There were five cartoons, three 3 Stooges, and 鈥淔rances in the Haunted House,鈥� starring Mickey Rooney.
Oh! I left out one of the strangest rituals of the Halloweens of my youth: bobbing for apples.
Or, as I鈥檇 like to think of it 鈥� waterboarding.
Some kids might鈥檝e enjoyed that. I never did. Mainly because I never managed to get my teeth around anything but water.
That wasn鈥檛 much of a reward.
Edward A. Owens is a multi-Emmy Award winner, former reporter, and anchor for Entertainment Tonight, and 50-year TV news and newspaper veteran. E-mail him at freedoms@bellatlantic.net.