Halloween Memories From My Decatur Neighborhood

Halloween has always been my favorite time of the year.  When I was a kid I wondered why Halloween wasn’t a holiday that we got off from school.  The day would tick by slowly and as soon as the bell sounded, I’d run out of Stevenson Elementary and hurry home, looking forward to seeing Skinny hanging on the front door.  I loved Skinny!  He was a life-size, glow in the dark, cardboard skeleton that hung on our door every Halloween.  It was an eagerly anticipated event each Fall to bring Skinny out of my parents closet and see his smiling face again.  I miss Skinny!

Planning my costume each year was always a strange task.  I didn’t have one of those MacGyver/Martha Stewart mothers that could create the most amazing costumes ever out of three pieces of yarn, a paper plate and hair gel.  I had to rely on the retail market.  My brothers and I would walk up to Brettwood to the Woolworths or the Super X and pick out our costumes.  What an amazing experience!  A whole aisle devoted to plastic glow in the dark vampire teeth, fake blood, masks and cardboard skeletons!  I remember when “flame retardant” costumes came into fashion – though I had no idea what “flame retardant” meant but they had the same smell and feel as Hefty bags.  I can still feel the pinch of that stiff cardboard Woody Woodpecker mask I wore one year and hear the crackling of that plastic jump suit as I walked through my neighborhood – heaven!

My neighborhood at night was a whole different world!  It was magical, spooky, exhilarating and fun!  There were no street lights in my neighborhood because it was county sub-division then, just the many porch lights of neighbors homes and the crisscrossing beams of flashlights that lit our way.  Tripping over lawn ornaments, walking into low tree limbs was all part of the experience.  The bumps and bruises were worth it.  But it was the unknown that was the best part.  Believing in ghosts, wondering if the rumors about a particular neighbor being a crazed lunatic were indeed true, and wondering why the yews and hedges that looked so innocent during the day looked like they could pull themselves from the ground and chase after me with their swaying arms and branches was a rush of adrenaline.  Smelling the wet, decaying leaves under my feet and feeling the misty air on my face added to the thrill.  And sometimes the weather didn’t cooperate but that never stopped us.  We were like mailmen.  Come rain, snow, sleet or hail – nothing would hinder our task!

Of course, the scariest part of the night had nothing to do with ghost but rather going up to neighbor’s doors, knocking and wondering what we’d see on the other side.  Women with rollers in their hair in their frumpy nightgowns, and catching glimpses of old men sitting in their underwear, in front of their television sets were the scariest sights!  “Oh, Bob look at these adorable kids!  Get off the couch and get over here!”  Scary indeed!  But the worst, most dreaded, most awful, experience was encountering one of those “health nut” neighbors, who instead of passing out candy on Halloween, dropped an apple or an orange into our bags.  One year, I even got a grapefruit and hauling that puppy around four blocks wasn’t fun!

After the thrill of canvasing the neighborhood was over, we’d come back home and spread our treasure out on the floor and view each piece in their wonderful glory.  Many times, I’d have to fight off my brothers and protect my well-earned sugar coated treasure.  I remember them trying to swindle me out of my best pieces for a rice-cake, nothing doing!  Being the youngest of three and the only girl contributed greatly to my many psychotic disorders, I’m sure, but I always held my own!

And then after everything died down and we had eaten our share of candy, my oldest brother would tune into WSOY and listen to scary stories.  I remember one story.  A husband and wife had been married for 50 years and every year the husband would ask his wife to remove the yellow ribbon that she always wore around her neck and every year she’d say no.  Finally, on their 50th anniversary after much pleading by her husband, she removed the yellow ribbon, slowly and methodically and — her head fell off and landed in her husband’s lap!  That’s the only story I remember but boy do I miss that radio show!

Maybe I’ll come up with some stories for Halloween and make it a tradition on the Decatur Navigator!