Trick or Treat

The Earliest Halloween memory I have is of Nenna wearing a cow costume, complete with a functioning udder (rigged with a loaded baby bottle that she could squirt at people). We drove to East Bridgewater to visit and trick-or-treat at Billy McCarthy’s house. In our earliest days there were only houses on the lower end of Phillips St, so there wasn’t much candy to be had in the neighborhood.

Halloween was one of the few times that we ever used the front door. Handing out treats and keeping an eye on the neighborhood proceedings was easier from the front door. Some where along the way, Dad acquired an intercom system – two small speaker/microphone boxes connected by a long length of wire (remember – this was in the early 1960’s – this was an impressive and unusual piece of technology). Dad placed a large Jack-o-Lantern near the front steps, hid one end of the intercom in the bush right beside it, and sat in the darkened upstairs bedroom with the other end. He watched as little children approached, and then made the Jack-o-Lantern talk to them. This truly startled many a small child, and likewise an occasional adult chaperone. Some children had to be convinced that they weren’t about to experience some horrible fate, and that it was OK to get some candy from the nice lady inside the doorway. Some were wonderously fascinated and held conversations with the Great Pumpkin, asking questions or just chatting.

One of the “tricks” Dad & Nenna liked to do was to Toilet Paper friends houses. It was a fun and artistic display of friendship – done only to people who would smile at being a “victim” and appreciate the connotation. As they were supposed to be mature responsible adults now, they gave up this quaint tradition – but us children gleefully learned the trade. Being from an artistically conscious family, we did not think much of people who simply heaved whole rolls up and over tree branches and telephone lines. They were unimaginative amatures. WE “decorated”, creating TP ribbons and bows on the shrubbery so that when people came outside and discovered that they had been victimized, they would be pleased and impressed with the dedication and talent and sincere effort that some one had put forth for their viewing pleasure. Initially, neighbors and friends didn’t know who had done this remarkable prank. We LOVED to overhear conversations that these people would have with Nenna, explaining to her what they had found that night or the next morning. It didn’t take long before they KNEW, and would be on the lookout for us the following year. So, as most anything could become a competition to us, we were determined to successfully TP their houses without getting caught in the act – just as they were equally determined to catch us (either before or during our artistic performance). Often on November 1st, Nenna would drive up Phillips Street and inspect our Gallery, offering commentary – compliments or words of advice for how we might improve our craft.

As we grew older and got licenses and became more mobile, we were able to expand our range and victimize new friends (much to the relief of our long-suffering neighbors). Of course these new friends/targets had heard us brag about previous exploits and were therefore fore-warned and fore-armed – new and exciting challenges. The Robinson family on Bonny Hill Lane became a favorite target. They eagerly lay in wait for our arrival. We waited longer than normal. Then with headlights shut off we parked just beyond the line of sight from their windows. We could see them inside but bravely continued on. I managed to scale up a support post, onto the porch roof, and reach far enough to place a TP scarf around the neck of the large wooden eagle mounted to their chimney. As I was climbing down, I recognized the sound of commotion inside and realized they were on to us. Away we ran, jumped into the waiting get-away car, backed up, lights off, smack into the street sign post on the corner – setting it at a 60 degree angle. The following year, the family was going through a bad divorce, and I was sternly instructed to “leave them alone” as they certainly didn’t need THAT. I reluctantly skipped their house that year. Two days later I heard through the grapevine that they were actually sad and disappointed that we did not “visit” them. They had been eagerly waiting all night for our “attack”.

After being told I was too old to trick-or-treat, I volunteered to bring little sister Heather on the rounds of the neighborhood. Of course I got to dress in costume and I selected a long white sheet for a simple ghost outfit. With Heather in a Cinderella or Princess costume, we would go to each house (I on my knees to look shorter). When we got our treats, I would jump up, grab her hand and away we would run.

TRICK OR TREAT