When I’m speaking with friends who don’t happen to find a great joy in Halloween, I often wonder why. My best guess would be that it goes back to our formative years, back to when we were all young trick-or-treaters. Some folks have experiences as kids which just seem to foster a love for all things Halloween related.
I wrote a post similar to this earlier in the year. However, this close to Halloween I have a longing to hear some tales from the past. Do you have any stand-out memories from your trick-or-treating days? Whether it be a favorite costume, strange happening, or a particular house that you absolutely had to visit each year, please take just a moment and share your experience.
I have quite a few good memories. However, this one in particular always stands out.
I grew up in Henrietta, NY (a suburb of Rochester). It was a quiet little neighborhood and as such, parents weren’t afraid to let kids go off on their own (so long as they remained relatively close to home).
I believe it was 1981 and I was 11 years old at the time. My buddy Jason and I were wrapping up a long evening of trick-or-treating. Just as we were about to head back home, we stumbled upon a curious house.
The lights were all out (the international signal for “we don’t want trick-or-treaters) but there was very loud “haunted house music” coming from the house. We looked at each other and shrugged. Figuring that it would be a shame to miss out on any extra candy, we proceeded down the driveway, to the house.
Arriving at the front door, we were met with another strange sight. The door was wide open and there was still no sign of light from within the house. I was a rather timid youth and was quite ready to turn around and leave. However, before I could, Jason reached up and pressed the doorbell.
Immediately, from within the blackness of the house, we heard a woman calling to us and the sound of chains rattling. At this point we were too startled to move so we just stood there, staring into the blackness.
As we watched, a woman crawled (yes crawled!) into view. Not only that, but she was half-naked! Clad only in a flimsy, white teddy, the woman crawled toward the door.
“Thank you for coming boys. You must save me from my master!” she said.
Our 11 year-old eyes were out of their sockets, wanting dearly to stare at her barely covered breasts but feeling the urge to run screaming into the night at the same time.
Then things got really weird. Now in full view, it became clear that the woman had a collar around her neck and was tethered by a chain. The chain was held by a large, bare-chested man who emerged from the dark.
“Candy, candy…candy for the children” he said. His voice was slightly muffled under a horrid Don Post mask.
The man held the chain, preventing the woman from “escaping”, and proceeded to stuff a TON of candy into our bags. With that done, he shut the door and we ran off into the night.
Neither of us mentioned that to our parents, for fear of freaking them out. We certainly didn’t want to be prevented from trick-or-treating on our own, in future years.