Ghosts of Halloweens Past

I realize this isn't Halloween. The real occasion is tomorrow, but Plainfield, in its infinite wisdom, has declared tonight as trick-or-treating night. Thus, I am reminded of Halloweens past.

To be perfectly honest, I don't remember all that much about my own trick-or treating days or the costumes I wore. I remember one year, before my brother was born, when my sister and I went out in our satin Chinese pajamas as costumes. (I think I only remember it because someone took a picture! Where was that, Shari? Hawaii? I was still pre-school age.) In those days, our parents could/would just turn us loose in the neighborhood...something almost unheard of these days. Oh, they were simpler times!

The very next Halloween that I remember was in 1953. Shari and I were sitting in the living room in our rented house in California watching our brand new black and white television--can't remember who was supervising us--when my father came home from the hospital and announced, loudly, "It's a BOY!" Floyd Douglas Covill--our brother Doug--was born on Halloween. He turned out to be quite a goblin! Sadly, Doug died suddenly at age 52, but I will always remember his birthday.

When I was in 1st grade, my father was assigned to be the commanding officer at the Navy Reserve Training Center in Danville, IL. New to the area, I remember my next Halloween experience. I was dressed as a pirate. Had on some kind of hat...cut off shorts...snow boots...and a patch over my eye. A local park (Douglas Park??) had some kind of contest. We were paraded across an outdoor stage...and I won some sort of prize! I remember being very surprised. I also remember being very cold!

As with stuffed stockings at Christmas, trick-or-treating had an expiration date with my parents. Once we reached a certain age, it was all over. Maybe around 10 or earlier. I don't remember. I also don't remember missing it--except for the Christmas stockings. I kind of liked the stocking deal, even though I knew that Santa was my parents. (I'm sorry if I just burst the bubble of my readers who are still Santa believers!) It was a rite of passage. I was no longer a baby and was expected to suck it up.

Fast forward to motherhood. My daughter was born in March of 1979. By October, she could barely even sit up on her own. Still, I put a little costume on her and sat her up by a pumpkin for a picture. Obviously, we didn't go trick-or-treating. My then-husband decided to go be with his other children...and I guess I don't blame him, except that I was then stuck at the house trying to answer the door with every knock AND try to take care of my baby. I was too stupid to turn off the lights and just let the roving kids go to another house because I was really into the occasion. I didn't want to be a Halloween Scrooge! Instead, I moved Meg's high chair near the front door so I could try to feed her and "treat" the neighborhood kids at the same time. I felt so alone at a time when I wanted OUR little family to be together. Understand that, at my daughter's age then, I couldn't even go to the bathroom in peace. Joe was never a help. I remember Megan's first Halloween because I felt so abandoned.

Halloweens thereafter consisted of coming up with homemade costumes. As a toddler, Meg was a clown. Later, she was a movie star, a Japanese woman, a witch...what else? When she was older and we were living in Pontiac, IL, her father would take her out "trick-or-drinking". It seems that everywhere he took her, he was invited in for a drink. Not sure how many treats she got back then, but he had a good time!

Flash forward again to Cloverdale, IN...1988. My husband was the principal at the jr-sr high school. We lived in town in a rented house. On Halloween night, he was sitting on the front steps of the house when a pumpkin was bounced off the mailbox, smashing the pumpkin and damaging the mailbox. Joe recognized the sound of the car and knew of the student who owned it. Needless to say, that kid and one of his co-hort friends had to do manual labor at our house for two weekends in trade for his not reporting it to the authorities. It would have been funnier had I not worried about what other stunts could have been foist on us due to his position.

When my grandchildren were born, a whole other generation of fun began for Halloween. When my baby Robin was very young, she was brought to my school dressed in an elephant costume. I was one happy grandma! When Robin was maybe three, Megan and Nathan and I spent an entire weekend (and quite a bit of money) creating an astronaut costume for Robin. It was the best! When Ryan came along, he had a variety of costumes, none of which we gave much effort to. He was too young to care back then.

Then there were the Frodo years. Frodo was the cocker spaniel that I inherited when Meg, Nathan, and family moved to Muncie. Bless her toady little heart, Frodo was never housebroken nor knew the word "no". On Halloween, things got dicey. She would bark vociferously at every knock on the door. It quickly got old. Finally, I would shut her into the back bedroom, but that only netted barking PLUS scratching on the door. Ugh! I had the Fro-dog for three years of training without results. When I finally had her put to sleep, I felt like an absolute criminal, but I was weary of feeling that we (me, Megan, and my grandchildren) were living in her toilet. Double ugh!

So tonight, Halloween of 2010, I had to turn off my lights and shut down because, for the first time in my 18 years in this house, I ran out of candy 45 minutes before official the end of trick-or-treating hours. I have never seen the neighborhood so full of roving bands of children! Not sure why... Had one radio friend and one former student show up at my doorstep, with children.

I just finished talking to my grandchildren on the phone. I love those kiddos so very much!
Another Halloween down. On to Ryan's birthday and Thanksgiving. God bless!

Oh...another ghost of Halloweens past: once upon a time, Halloween was spelled with an apostrophe between the two e's...and if you left it out on a spelling test, it was WRONG. Now, no one even has a memory of those days. Sigh. So many changes for an old English teacher to deal with!

Nightie...