The origins of Halloween are obscure and mixed. So, how do you plan to celebrate next Monday?
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On the one hand, folk legend reports Halloween began with ghoulish rituals and subsequent witch hunts. On the other end of the spectrum, Halloween reportedly began with a reverent celebration of the memories of past Saints.
Since Nov. 1 is All Saints Day on the Christian calendar (which originated in pre-Christian Rome), people paused to give thanks on the eve of All Saints Day — a “hallowed eve,” thus Halloween.
We never were too creative come Halloween.
As a rule, my parents didn’t allow us kids to go to homes asking for anything from people we didn’t know. We didn’t spend any money on costumes — I was a mummy for several consecutive years since we always had a worn-out white sheet that easily stripped for a head-to-toe wrap-around. And we didn’t go at all whenever mom and dad decided we were too big. Period.
Likewise, I was never too inspired to trick.
About the first Halloween past my driver’s license, a buddy made plans for some late night mischief. For whatever reason I was excluded, but before first hour class I looked at a rather awful looking red “line” on his neck below his chin and asked what happened.
He started his story with something about how dark that backyard seemed when another buddy blurted out, “Yeah, nobody saw that clothes line!” and laughed too loud. Then the bell rang.
Next thing I know our school principal, a former Marine (no kiddin’!), interrupted class roll to confront us as if we all had been in the teacher’s back yard that Halloween night. During the interrogation the principal edged toward my friend while describing the damage a rooster caused in the teacher’s car before its discovery as school started that morning.
It wasn’t long before my redneck buddy was being escorted from the room … and the following aftermath of that incident kinda took the “trick” right out of me. There are advantages of learning from others’ mistakes.
Thus, most of my Halloween stories are rather lame. For most kids, Halloween is really about candy. What I vividly recall is grandma’s pink popcorn balls … and how you’d eat them slowly to avoid chomping down on those hard kernels that refused to pop open.
My country church had the perfect cemetery for Halloween. It’s all changed now, of course, since the new entry gate and white vinyl fencing was erected. But back then, once past the outhouse, you were never quite sure where the first graves started. The newer graves around the edges of the cemetery only had flat ground markers; you had to walk further north atop the ridge to reach the older upright markers. Thus, walking at night, you could be deep amidst the ghosts before you’d even know it.
A Halloween tradition? Yes. But walking the cemetery at night alone was a coming of age thing you faced anytime during the year. You simply were not recognized as an equal by older cousins until you walked … w-a-l-k-e-d … the entire path graveled around the cemetery.
Today the country cemetery doesn’t seem very big at all. But at the age when it matters, you measured by when you couldn’t see the guys you left behind. That was slightly down on the other side of the ridge, where the beaten path made its first turn. Nobody could see you; you were completely alone. And, believe me, you couldn’t hear anything either, except for the thumpin’ of your own heart.
Once past the first turn I was running hard and soon rounding off the corner on the far side of the cemetery … only to spin out and skid hard on the sharp gravel. My elbows and knees were bleeding long BEFORE my cousins jumped out from behind the tombstones, contrary to their versions of what they didn’t see, often repeated afterwards.
I guess that’s the thing about Halloween for me. I don’t mind handing out candy to little tykes, especially those that dazzle with a homemade caboodle of costumes worn all at the same time: an alien-clown-dragon, cowboy, pirate-ninja and wizard-pizza bumblebee combination acquired from that last garage sale. It’s like they’re considering the odds, figuring all the more candy if they can dress to please.
But there’re lots things about Halloween I can do without. I certainly wish the older pranksters would move away from the vampire attire … the zombie craze of nowadays. They seem to delight in spilling more than a little catsup on those kinds of costumes.
It does seem like more parents need to tell more of their kids they’re too old for Halloween. I read where the National Retail Federation anticipates Americans to shell out a record $8.4 billion on Halloween this year; the average person is spending almost $83. That seems like a mean “trick” to me!
I suppose you can make Halloween memories dressing up without whistling your way alone through a cemetery on a dark moonless night. But, I’ll argue. There’s no substitute for the real thing.