Halloween is almost upon us again.

Me, I love All Hallows Eve. If there truly is one holiday that belongs to kids, this – even more so than Christmas – is it. But unlike waking up on December 25th, reasonably assured Santa stopped off the night before, delivering the requisite gifts, there’s always an unsettling uncertainty about October 31st’s grand finale.

Stop and think about it – you can watch a scary movie anytime, buy yourself a bag of candy corn at your tummy’s convenience, throw a costume party whenever you choose, even carve a pumpkin when the mood hits you, but trick or treating? Uh uh – there’s a very small window of opportunity for THAT activity – roughly a couple of hours on the last night of each October – and when it’s over, baby, it’s OVER!

You were too sick to go out gathering candy with your friends? Sorry, pal – there’s no do-overs on November 1st. You’re just gonna have to wait – AN ENTIRE YEAR!!

A torrential downpour? Oh, well – just gotta hope for better weather next time around.

Yeah, Halloween can be cruel.

It rained the night of my daughter Julie’s initial trick or treating expedition. Happily, while it was a steady rain, it wasn’t enough to keep us off the streets – or enough to give us pneumonia either! She was only three at the time, and the truth is, I got just as big a kick – maybe more – of roaming the streets in search of sweets as Julie did. We were living in the smallish city of Kingston then, where there was a rather early curfew of 7 o’clock, and I can still vividly recall the last house we visited that night as we headed back home. It was maybe five minutes past seven, and as we climbed up onto one final porch, and rang one last doorbell, I saw the women come from down the hallway towards us. Initially, all she could see was my weatherbeaten countenance, and frankly, she looked pretty disgusted, but as soon as she got close enough to spy the adorable two foot ghost accompanying me, her expression changed entirely. It was a lesson that would serve us well in the selling of Girl Scout cookies – it’s hard to say no to “cute”.

Well, maybe that evening’s precipitation was our trial by fire (such as it was), and we passed, because ever since, we’ve been lucky enough to have had rain free Halloweens, several of which were downright balmy for upstate New York. When we moved here to our new home ten years back, we also moved into a curfew-free environment. Generally, the rule of thumb around these parts is that the costumed ghouls and ghosties take to the streets somewhere between 5 and 9, with most of the heavy activity falling between 6:30 and 8. Of course, that doesn’t preclude teen-agers banging on your door at 10:45 as they did the first year we were here. I answered the door, but expressed a bit of surprise that they’d even consider stopping by at that late an hour. The teens were quick to point out that we had left all our outdoor lights on, and to them, that was clearly a signal that we were still actively in the candy-doling business. Well, I gave then their Baby Ruth’s and sent them on their way, quickly turning off our lights, and have made a point of extinguishing our outer illumination shortly after nine each year since, meaning we’ve had no further late-night visits.

Which is not to say that we haven’t been on the OTHER side of the coin ourselves. For a number of years, we’d go out with the next door neighbors, a pair of sisters and their mom. We’d head out as close to six as possible, and then just keep going, making big looping circles around the area, stopping in at home mid-way through to drop off our booty and maybe down a refreshing drink. Year in and year out, the kids next door would inevitably poop out about a half an hour before us, calling it a night while Julie and I trudged on, covering several now ever more deserted streets. One was a dead end where the folks way at the furthest end always put way too much effort into making their home Halloween friendly, as not nearly enough trick or treaters ever made it down there to fully appreciate all the cobwebs, skeletons, and carved pumpkins gaudily on display.

But we always made it, always alone, always near the end of our journey. HOW near the end? Well, I’ll never forget the one time, after our annual visit to the aforementioned Spooktacular, we headed on over to the house next door. Since the outdoor lights were still on – meaning it was fair game (no lights mean stay away, sorry, not home, or, done for the night) – we went up and rang the door bell. We waited patiently for a few seconds, and then through the large picture window in front, I saw a man, toothbrush still in mouth, dressed in pajamas, grab his robe, and head towards the door. By the time he’d opened the door, he had managed to put aside the toothbrush and bruskly gave Julie her treat.

Oops. You never want to be answering the door on Halloween in your jammies…

I accompanied my daughter on her annual moonlight treks from ages three right on up to eleven, but was then politely informed that y’know, maybe she was getting a wee bit too old to be trick or treating with her daddy. I had to agree, however reluctantly. The following year was pretty rough – I had street walking withdrawal (if you know what I mean), but at least these days I get to stay at home and hand out goodies to the costumed cut-ups who knock on our door. It’s not quite the same as the magic of being out in the thick of things, but I guess it’s gonna have to do me. No doubt about it, I really treasure the time I put in on past Halloween expeditions. More than once, I’d stop Julie and tell her to take a look around and consider what was going on: right then and there, in every town, on every street, and at every house, kids dressed up in funny outfits were going door to door to stranger’s houses, requesting candy, and – oboy! – getting it!! Wow! What a wonderfully crazy idea this was!

But it only lasts for a few ephemeral hours on one specific night each year, and if you missed it, you missed it. And even while we were amassing our booty – and it was more the thrill of the hunt than it was the bagging of the game, trust me – I could always sense the minutes ticking inexorably away, the magic of the night slowly evaporating, until the raucous crowds of kids criss-crossing each other on our suburban streets was reduced to merely occasional far-away echoes of stragglers as Julie and I headed home, rarely seeing anyone else still making out the rounds. All too soon, it was over, and everything was back to normal. Dull, unmagical normal….

Some folks don’t dig the trick or treating, and I respect that. Look, I was lucky enough to grow up in a Halloween friendly area, and the same can be said for now 16 year old Julie. But I suppose there are places where going out in the dark of night, angling for sweets, well, that may NOT be the best of ideas. That’s a dirty shame, because trick or treating really is a uniquely special custom, one I’m happy to take part of in any way possible!

One other personal tradition I’ve maintained growing up was rereading my various Little Lulu Halloween giants at the end of each October, especially in those years after I myself was deemed a bit too old to go trick or treating. This was a way for me to properly capture the spirit of the season, as these were the only comics I’ve ever encountered that acknowledged there was far more to Halloween than just telling hackneyed old ghost stories and the like. I’ve shared some random images from those late fifties, early sixties classic issues here to accompany my ruminations, and I hope I didn’t trick you into thinking this week’s episode was actually going to be about comics! Now, THAT would’ve been a treat! Maybe next time…

Happy Halloween, friends!

Hembeck.com – live from ghost to ghost all year round!

-Copyright 2006 Fred Hembeck

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