Trick or Treat

October 27, 2025

Greetings from Sir Graves Ghastly,

This week will frame a tradition in this country that has roots which go back thousands of years, which for context, is how long it takes to watch all the seasons of ‘Gray’s Anatomy’. Of course, I am referring to Halloween, which has somehow evolved into a ‘holiday’ of sorts, on which Americans will spend over $13 billion this year. 

So, I thought I would share a little of the history of Halloween, some of which I may have misremembered, the rest of which is a mix of lore and fable, and the last bit just plain fabrication.

When Halloween first began it was some kind of pagan ritual, might have been some sacrifices, and there may have been Celtic priests, some of whom went on to play basketball in Boston. 

By the time I was a kid, (for reference, when the Viet Nam war was on TV but it was live, not a Netflix series) we no longer sacrificing things, except during Lent, and while candy was involved, it was a whole other thing.  When I was growing up our Halloween costumes were made by our parents, meaning our Mom, because Dad would say “When I was growing up I didn’t get a costume, I had to fight druids for candy….” or some other story we didn’t listen to.

Usually there were grocery sacks involved, which were subtle advertisements for Hamady Foods, cut into ridiculous disguises that mostly resembled grocery sacks.  But most of the time it was various linens: Pillowcases became masks and were also used to collect candy, towels were tied around the neck to become a cape, sheets were ghost costumes, unless there was a Klan march somewhere nearby. Occasionally princesses were draped with a table cloth, the one that had the stubborn gravy stain.

Then Kmart got into the act with ‘store-bought’ costumes, which all children immediately wanted. The prepackaged Superman costume included a cape that wouldn’t stay on, a mask you couldn’t see out of, held in place by an elastic string that broke instantly when applied, causing lacerations near the eye, and then you had to run from house to house with one hand holding the mask on and you looked far less super than you hoped.  This was the epicenter of the $13 billion we will spend on this one night.

We lived in the city, so we didn’t go on hay rides out into a field to select the perfect pumpkin, we got it the old-fashioned way, delivered by the gourd fairy down our chimney.  I think.  Either that or it was from a pile in front of Comber’s Market.

Pumpkins were hollowed out and carved with scary eyes and teeth, (not sure what hero pulled the slimy brains out of ours but it was probably Mom, because Dad didn’t have pumpkins when he was growing up, he had to carve out a turnip or a rock or something) and put on the porch to ward off evil spirits or teenagers wearing Dick Nixon masks. 

Kids would yell ‘Trick or Treat’ and the implied threat usually involved eggs being thrown or pumpkins dashed on the sidewalk.  Candy was flung into bags, right after the standard question about the costume: “And who are you?”  “I am a Hamady Sack!”  There were always stories about razor blades in apples, which my Dad always scoffed at because when he was a kid they didn’t get apples and he had to eat the razors raw.

We ran around our block and were yelling “Trick or Treat” as we went up each little sidewalk to the front stoop. We collected all the candy we could carry, occasionally stopping to lighten the load by eating fistfuls of chocolate, or dumping out the Necco wafers and black licorice, which no one should eat ever.

I felt compelled to capture a few of these old images because Halloween looks a little different now.  Never mind the ‘Bobbing for Apples’ app, or the google feature that tells you where you’ll find the shortest lines for Trunk-er-Treat.  The costumes are more realistic and elaborate, the candy is bigger and better, and everything gets scanned with an MRI to detect any razor blades left over from the sixties.  But that’s just the beginning.

I have been out with my grandkids and seen the elaborate light shows, sound effects, smoke machines, and animated witches.  I’m glad people are having fun, but there are places where it looks like we have lost control of our druid-loving minds.  The escalation for outrageous outdoor Halloween décor has gone to levels from which we may not recover.  (Note the neat avoidance of the dangling preposition.) (When my Dad was a kid they didn’t even have prepositions, and he had to end his sentences with participles.)

The ubiquitous inflatable things are getting bigger every year, in some neighborhoods they have to put new zoning laws in place to keep them from interfering with air traffic.  Last night I saw a few houses that already have their inflatable Christmas characters out with the Halloween creatures, which does make for a scarier tableau, if I’m honest. 

And that’s just the beginning.  There are some yard that are so crowded with scary things there’s not room to squeeze by to yell “Trick or Treat!”  I saw one tree decorated with animated dangling participles. I respect the enthusiasm for the kid’s sake but at some point it becomes something else.  It becomes $13 billion. That’s scarier than Dick Nixon.

I realize I probably sound like a grumpy, cynical, nostalgic old fart. That’s because I’m going to be my Dad for Halloween.

Hope this finds you with a bag full,

David

Copyright © 2025 David Smith