HALLOWEEN REMINISCIN’

October 28, 2026

by Rusty W. Mitchum

Do you know what I miss? I miss Halloween. You know, like it was back when I was a kid. Oh, I know, Halloween is still around, although very few go by that name. Now they call ‘em, Fall Festivals, Harvest Festivals, Autumn Festivals and junk like that. Back when I was a kid nobody was worried about offendin’ one group or another and no group or another was worried about bein’ offended. But I’ll let you “intellectuals” debate that junk, and I’ll talk about Halloween way back when.

Back when I was a kid, one of the greatest times of year was Halloween. What kid doesn’t like to dress up in a costume and have strangers give ‘em candy? Back then you could buy a cheap Halloween costume at the store, but they were about as lame as the ones they sell now. Most everyone I knew made their own costumes. Girls were dressed like princesses or fairy god mothers with their petticoats on the outside of their dresses to look like gowns, and they’d be holdin’ a twirlin’ baton with a glittered star taped to the end to make it look like a magic wand. And there were always a few dressed like witches scattered here and there, draggin’ a broom.

Now, us boys were dressed like cowboys (the western kind, not the football kind) or ghosts (which consisted of old worn white sheets or a pillow case if you were a runt) or hobos, which most of us looked like anyway. Of course, the hobo would have a shadow of a beard rubbed on with a piece of charcoal that had been rescued from the barbecue pit. We’d also have a rope tied to a back belt loop on our jeans and then slapped over one shoulder and tied to a front belt loop to form a semi-suspender. Oh yeah, we’d also have a bandana with the four corners tied together with some wadded-up paper inside and that was tied to a stick from a limb of a tree. This was draped over your shoulder with the bandana sack in the back. If you were lucky, your daddy would give you an old pair of worn-out shoes with toes stuffed with newspaper, so they’d sort of fit, and an old worn-out hat to wear. To top off the ensemble, a short fat stick with the tip painted red or white, clamped between your teeth which became your cigar. Man, you had to pull yourself away from lookin’ at yourself in the mirror to go trick or treatin’.

Then you’d get to go from house to house, knock on the door and holler, “Trick or Treat!” Then you’d have to endure all the ooo’s and ahh’s from the ladies of the houses you visited. Some would even pinch your cheek. But we’d smile really big, so they’d give us a treat.

Notice I said the ladies. Grown men didn’t really participate in all the hoopla. You could peek around behind the ladies and see their husbands sittin’ in their easy chairs engulfed in a cloud of cigarette smoke watchin’ “Wanted Dead or Alive,” “Have Gun - Will Travel,” or some other western on their black and white television sets.

Now, the treats you got weren’t all candy, although a lot of it was. You’d also get apples, or pears if they had a pear tree, and also the Holy Grail of treats, the Popcorn Ball. Popcorn balls for you too-young-to-remember crowd, was a pile of popcorn mixed with a sugary syrupy substance and then rolled into softball sized balls. It would be wrapped in wax paper, so you could let go of it when you went to put it in your sack. The wax paper also kept all of the other goodies in your sack from semi-attaching themselves to the popcorn ball. The only downside of popcorn balls was if you ate it while out trick of treatin’, you were guaranteed of havin’ to take a bath when you got home. If not, the next mornin’ your mom would have to call the fire department to come help peel your sheets off of you.

Oh yeah, your Halloween sack. Back then, you didn’t see too many kids with plastic pumpkin jack-o-lanterns to carry their goodies in. Most had paper sacks from the grocery store. And I’m not talkin’ about no little bitty lunch size sack. I’m talkin’ about the great ol’ big grocery sack. You don’t see ‘em much anymore since the grocery stores have gone to packin’ your stuff in plastic sacks, or like they say today, plastic bags. Anywho, those big ol’ paper sacks had lots of room, which was needed ‘cause apple and popcorn balls take up a lot of space. Those sacks didn’t have handles on ‘em neither. You’d just have to wad up the openin’ and carry it like a suitcase.

By the time you got home from all of that trick or treatin’, you’d be draggin’; plumb worn out. But, not too tired to eat some of the treats that you had just poured out on the kitchen table. If you were lucky, Halloween that year would’ve landed on a Friday or Saturday night, so you didn't go to school the next day. If not, you were more than likely limited to just a couple of the treats, so the sugar wouldn’t surge through your body creating a spider monkey on meth reaction keepin’ you awake all night.

Man, after reminiscin’ about all of this, it makes me want to go back. I think Calvin, of cartoonist Bill Watterson’s strip “Calvin and Hobbes,” said it best. Calvin said, “Becoming an adult is probably the dumbest thing you could ever do!”