What do you remember about Halloween time during your childhood? Think back and let the cobwebs clear a bit. I bet that you enjoyed the revelries as much as my sister, brother and I did in the 1960’s.
It all began with growing our own pumpkins in the back yard garden and bringing the best-proportioned ones into the house and carving them on the kitchen table. We placed copies of the Berkshire Eagle underneath the pumpkin upon which we piled up the insides and squished the innards with our fingers for that cool to the touch, slimy feeling. Cutting the pumpkins with a sharp kitchen knife and not getting stabbed was a challenge.
We put these jocular jack-o-lanterns on the front steps of our front porch in mid-October. This let our neighbors know that we were getting festive and ready for further frivolity.
The annual Pittsfield Halloween Parade was another spooky seasonal sign. Just about every neighborhood and elementary school had its own float. Many community groups made fantastic floats, including the General Electric Company. This festive parade was a further harbinger of what was to come.
Most of us preferred to make our own costumes and recycle little-used clothing packed way in boxes or just hanging in the closet waiting to be resurrected. An additional component was usually needed to achieve regalia perfection.
So, it was a bonus when we managed to save a few dollars in order to buy masks, face paints, glitter, sparkles, fake sharp-fanged teeth etc. We found these supplies at Woolworth’s store on North Street and at the Big N on West Housatonic Street in Pittsfield. Some of us liked to imitate and dress like our TV heroes. There was no limit to what our costumes would look like.
For example, I liked to wear my official Roy Rogers western gear: the wide-brimmed hat, an ordinary shirt worn beneath a cowboy vest and waistcoat, cotton or wool trousers, covered halfway with the leather chaps, tall boots and the oversized silk handkerchief worn around my neck, not to mention the six guns with their holster.
The next step involved selecting our largest pillowcase to eventually be filled with candies and treats from our Osceola Park neighbors in Pittsfield. Other kids used shopping bags with handles that usually tore off due to the heavy load of sweets and fruits—what a bad break for them (no pun intended.)
Wonder if any of these cherished candy brands that we hauled in are still sold today: Snickers, Pom Pom’s, Oh Henry, Mars Bar, Butterfinger, Sugar Daddy, Clark Bar, Kit Kats, Baby Ruth, Tootsie Rolls, Milky Way, Mallo Cups, Sky Bar, Chunky, Charleston Chew, Bit O Honey etc?
I usually went trick or treating with my younger brother Chip and eventually my sister Tricia who was seven years younger than me. Her legs and arms got tired quickly and we would then carry her on our shoulders, but only for so long. We would eventually get worn out and bring her back home at the end of our first “round”.
Our itinerary involved trekking in the Osceola Park neighborhood beginning at our house on West Housatonic Street, up Essex Street, down Gale Avenue to Redman Lane to Oswald Avenue, then to Osceola Street and back home. We probably visited thirty or forty houses. Seems like lots of work, but why not, the reward was palpable and most rewarding.
I often wore my grandfathers’ long underwear to protect against the cold weather. Some of those trick or treat nights were not fit for “man or beast” and were cold, windy and rainy. Having this extra layer of clothing was really practical for the most part.
That said, trying to answer nature’s insistent call while trekking in such garb could become problematic. There were too many buttons to seek out and undo whilst I was under pressure. So more than once, I had to run home with my half-filled pillow case in hand and get to the bathroom before an “accident“ happened. My parents quickly separated me from my convoluted clothing. However, there were occasions when my luck literally ran out ….
As the excitement of this wonderful evening waned, the neighbors would tactfully shut their outside lights off and no longer answer their door bell. We knew that it was now time to finally head home with our luscious loot. We had no misgivings and called it quits until next year.
Once we arrived back home, the fanciful feast began. How much candy could we devour in the shortest time? Who garnered the largest pile of sugarcoated sweets? Who wanted to trade their caramel-covered popcorn balls for a Mounds Bar? My brother, sister and I engaged in many mouth-watering bargaining trading sessions on trick or treat night.
You know what the ensuing epilogue is, don’t you?
It was the usual parental warning about the risks of consuming too much sugar, of course They said that our behavior would lead to our developing cavities and going under the dentist’s dastardly drill. This unsought advice had little effect on us that night. You can understand why because our minds were instead enveloped in a whimsical world.
Why couldn’t Halloween time happen more often, we merrily mused while chewing and chomping away to our hearts’ delight.
