This year, as always, I bought too many bags of Halloween candy. I’m always expecting the crowds of yesteryear to show up. I imagine opening my door and seeing a dozen middle-school-age kids shouting “trick or treat!”
Today it’s most likely toddlers in bunny costumes, their parents close by. Now, I have nothing against toddlers; in fact, I once had two of my own. However, where have all the kids gone, those who came in droves, the very heart of Halloween?
Some people say they’re not allowed out on their own. Who knows what’s lurking behind dark suburban doors? Whatever the reason, I admit it’s rare to see kids trick or treating without parents in tow.
Yet I can’t help remembering my Halloween experience, growing up in Gloucester. Back then, Halloween was more fun than Christmas. On that night, accompanied by my younger brother and sister, we owned the streets and we covered as many as we could, dragging pillow cases behind us. Had our mother suggested coming with us, we would have left her in the dust like the cartoon character Roadrunner. No self-respecting kid would be caught trick or treating with a parent.
I won’t say we weren’t scared at times. For instance, we had to scurry past the dark, silent cemetery on Mt. Pleasant Avenue in East Gloucester. But it was worth it because, as I recall, the people in that area were generous with their offerings. Not only that, a man who lived on the second floor of an apartment house would appear in boots, boxer shorts and cape and hand out bottles of Twin Lights soda. In those days we called it “tonic.” A whole bottle of Twin Lights was worth the dark walk past the cemetery and the climb up a flight of stairs. It made up for those well-meaning people who gave out apples.
Not long ago my husband enjoyed taking part in Halloween. Wearing his rubber “old man” mask over a long, buttoned up overcoat, bare legs and ratty old sneakers, he silently joined the crowds on our street. One year, when he finally returned home, he wasn’t alone. A woman had followed him to our door. Upon spotting me she announced, “I’ve been following this person, making sure the streets are safe for our children.” I assured her that he was merely taking part in the festivities.
I’m sure this self-appointed guardian of the public thought she was doing her civic duty, and perhaps she was. But it’s people like that who’re driving a stake through the heart of Halloween, and I’ll bet my fellow Boomers will agree. We remember when Halloween was for kids: a time for fun.
Beverly resident Sharon Love Cook is a longtime contributor to The Salem News and author of the Granite Cove Mysteries. Contact her at sharonlovecook@comcast.net.