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© Catherine Haslag

Mayberry Halloween

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I grew up in a little town in a valley along the Osage River. Looking back on it, it was a bit of an idyllic place for a kid to grow up. Everyone knew everyone and looked out for each other. Don’t get me wrong, there were downsides too. Gossip and nosiness were present in no shortage. There is a line from Doc Hollywood where Vialula says regarding the gossip in Grady, “Can’t poop in this town without everybody knowin’ what color it is.” This was true of my home town as well.

Halloween 1994:  the last year I went trick or treating. I am dressed in jammies on the right. I will not identify the other two pictured in the photo to protect their anonymity and perhaps shield them from embarrassment.

Growing up, one of my favorite times of year was Halloween. There were many kids in my hometown and they all dressed up and walked around town trick-or-treating. A few of the parents dressed up too. It was like a social night full of ghouls, superheroes, princesses, and candy. One parent (or the oldest child) would take the kids out. The other parent would stay home and hand out candy.

The costume was of utmost importance. I usually thought about it for months in advance of the big night. It was a way for me to try on a new identity for a while. Dress in a way I didn’t normally dress. Over the years I was a witch, a skeleton, a clown, a princess, and when I was 8, Helen Keller. I was REALLY into Helen Keller that year. That is a story for a later blog.

I quickly figured out which houses gave out good candy and which didn’t. The worst house on my list was two doors down from my home. They had a VERY tall, poorly-lit set of stairs to climb to their deck, where the front door was located. Once you climbed to their front door, all they ever offered was that horrible taffy wrapped in orange and black paper. I HATED going to that house for candy. I thought it was a waste of time since I didn’t like the candy, but mom made me go every year because grandma liked the taffy. So I went, like a good little granddaughter, every year so I could give those 3-5 pieces of candy to grandma.

The two BEST houses on the route were Edgar and Marlene Kliethermes and Alvina and Leslie Jaegers. We always went to their homes last. The Kliethermes’ handed out homemade popcorn balls. This wasn’t my favorite, but my mom loved them and the Kliethermes were so nice. We always sat and visited with them for a while. Plus, their three youngest sons liked to hide and scare trick-or-treaters. It was fun to see what they did each year. One year, they didn’t hear us coming up their long driveway and we startled them. Always a bonus when you are a little kid.

The Jaegers house was the last house we stopped on our quest. They didn’t just give you candy at the door and send you on your way. No, kids and parents were invited inside. They had cold punch if it was hot and hot chocolate if it was cold. Alvina also worked at Scholastic Books and would give out books AND candy. I figured out that if I was the last trick or treater, she would give me all the candy and books she had left. That’s pure childhood, Halloween gold!

After the candy collection was complete, it was time to sort my loot. I would dump the contents of my pumpkin on the floor in the living room, the candy would scatter across the rug and onto the hardwood floors. My favorites (Twix, Reeces, Butterfinger…) went in one pile, the middle-of-the-road (Snickers, Hershey, Starburst…) went in a second pile, and “trash candy” (Smarties, Sweet Tarts, and other flavorless forms of sugar) went in a third pile. The favorites never made it 24 hours and I usually went to bed with a case of sugar belly.

Those Halloween nights have long since ended in my hometown. Most of the people I spoke of above have shuffled off their mortal coils. Rather than house-to-house trick or treating, now a trunk-or-treat type activity is held downtown. No more huffing and puffing to walk to the top of the church hill. No more popcorn balls. No more Halloween gold. Just my memories of this magical night through the eyes as a child.

 

Blog from the past…

I wrote about one of the books I was given by Alvina in a previous blog.  It was titled “What the Wind Told.”  Click the link to go straight to this blog.

 

What the Wind Told

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Cover of What the Wind Told by Betty Boegehold.

One of my favorite books of all time came into my life on a Halloween night. A neighbor lady worked at Scholastics and gave out candy and books to trick-or-treaters. I was the last kid to come to her house one year so I was the lucky recipient of half a crystal punch bowl of candy and a stack of books. A jackpot of massive proportions to someone who could still count their age and not use all their fingers to do so. One of the books in my acquisition was titled What the Wind Told.

The story of the Old Woman’s Window.

Published in 1974 and written by Betty Boegehold, this book tells the story of Tossy, a little girl who is homesick and bored out of her mind. She eventually asks the Wind to tell her stories about the windows across the way to help her pass the time. The Wind tells Tossy stories of a woman whose kitchen floor turns into a pond during the day, a family of plants who keep their children on the window sill, and a dog who sits typing names for things all day long.

The story of the Old Dog’s Window.

What the Wind Told opened my child-mind to the idea that each window contains a story. I wanted to learn those stories. To this day, I enjoy touring other’s homes and looking at their houses as I walk down the street. Each window tells a story about the people who live there. The widower who hasn’t changed anything in the living room since his wife died. The family of 6 who lives in a 2-bedroom house. Bunk beds stacked in one bedroom with sheets in the windows for curtains. The retired neighbor who loves to sit on his 3-season porch and wave at passers-by. The immigrant family who purchased their first home and is chasing their American Dream.

Drool and Gool hiding in the middle of their apartment, terrified.

More than 30 years later this book still inspires my imagination. A home a few doors down from where I live has captivated me for years. It reminds me of the Scary window described by the Wind. The windows are dark and the curtains are always drawn. I never see anyone come and go from the house. There is no car in the driveway or garage. There are never any tire tracks in the snow come winter and the sidewalk is never shoveled. Sometimes I see a cat in the window, staring back in boredom. There are decorations by the door and someone does live there, but there is no evidence of this other than the bored window cat and dumpster and recycling found weekly at the curb. Every time I walk by this house, I imagine that Drool and Gool are hunkered down in a pile of furniture in the living room, hoping no one calls or knocks.

Unfortunately, What the Wind Told is out of print and copies of it are very expensive. I am so thankful for the neighbor who gave me this book when I was a child. It sparked my imagination and taught me that windows are glimpses into others’ lives. The stories our windows tell about us are beautiful and incomplete. A glance at the private lives contained in our homes and hearts.

 

PLEASE NOTE:  All photos used in this blog were taken from my copy of What the Wind Told and are not my personal work or of my creative labor. They were used in this blog to help communicate the essence of the book and provide an illustration of the stories the author was telling.

A VERY SPECIAL THANK YOU to Alvina Jaegers for the Halloween candy and books. Your house was my favorite to visit on Halloween night.