Halloween is fast approaching and while it is fraught with bad memories for me, there are also a few that bring me fond memories. October 30 is/was my first journey into the state of Holy Matrimony. While that did not last and has a lot of sadness connected with it, it nonetheless gave me all 5 of my children. That is good. It is also the day my brother was in a car cras and death claimed him the next day. So this year I am going to take a journey back to Halloween when I was but a wee lass!
As I recall, Nickerson, Kansas boasted a population of 1200 souls. Not every street had a street light, but most of them did. Our costumes usually consisted of paper grocery bags that momma had saved from the Fleming grocery or Berridge IGA. These were laid out on the table after mother had cut a mouth and eyes in them. She then dug out broken crayons that she had saved from school last year. Each one of us colored our grocery bag as we chose. Jake always made a scar face on his. If you recall, he had a scar on his cheek that he carried all his life because a horse kicked him in the face when he was very young. Anyway....
We were sent into the world of free candy carrying some sort of bag which we hoped to fill with candy. We were also reminded to say please and thank you. And don't be greedy! Only take one piece. Now back in those days we did not have to worry about some one putting razor blades in apples or dusting candy with LSD. Our biggest worry was that the next house would have a big bowl of candy corn and our greatest hope was that maybe somebody would give us a Hershey Bar. Candy corn was gross and chocolate was hard to come by. A lot of the homes had home baked cookies, which was good. Back in those days the crazies had not yet came out of the woodwork and we could do that. Not anymore! Now the sacks have to be filled with individually wrapped items, taken somewhere and x-rayed before eating out of them.
It was always fun going from door to door and knocking. Usually, some lady or her husband would come to the door and appear to be surprised and pleased to see us. Usually. If the porch light was not on that meant they were out of candy, so we just passed them by. The hardest part of the whole thing was when we came to a block with no houses. That is where the big boys hid and would jump out and steal our candy sacks. They were high school kids, so we did not know them, and it only happened once to us, so we were careful to stay in the well-lighted areas.
The best part was when we got home and momma went through the sacks. She examined each piece to be sure her babies would not bite into a razor blade. She did not worry about the candy being laced with drugs, because back then, we did not know about the existence of such things. Oh, the innocence of youth!
The short time I was in Plevna with the grandma's was probably one of my best Halloween's! Population of Plevna was 109. Of those few souls, several of them managed to steal a horse drawn buckboard from somewhere and hoisted it onto the roof of the gymnasium at the school. Not sure they ever figured out who did that, but I think it was some ornery little rascals from Abbyville! Or maybe Pretty Prairie.
So, here I set in my house that sets on a back acre. No one will come to my house, because they cannot find it. I will buy a little bag of miniature Heath bars or Almond Joy bars, just in case. Course those happen to be my favorite candy bar and if someone one comes to my house, I will give them one. But if no none comes, I will have to eat them. I hate to think of eating something I don't like.
So there it is! This year instead of mourning my brother or the demise of my first marriage, I will focus on the positive! I will remember how happy I used to be all those years ago when we lived in abject poverty on a dead end street back in Nickerson, Kansas. All I have left of those years is one sister. The grandma's and aunt's and uncles are all gone. I have a couple shirt tail second or third cousins, but that is it!
I also have my memories of days gone by and the best part of that is that they are mine and I can remember them as I choose to remember them. Sometimes my memories make me very sad, but sometimes they are very happy and I can feel love over the years and the miles.
That is the best part of old age!
Peace!
