I’m not a big fan of Halloween. I’m OK with the fun stuff but not the scary stuff. I think it stems from the first Halloween that I remember. I was six and invited to a Halloween party at a friend’s house. I don’t recall the friend other than I know she was a girl who had older sisters. Her name may have been Marjorie, but that’s only a guess.
What sticks in my mind from the party is being scared beyond any point that I remember on any Halloween. I know I dressed up because everybody did, but I don’t recall my costume. What scared me the most was not knowing who anyone was. I was in a house of strangers all dressed in deceptive garb. One of the older sisters recognized my fear and took me aside to let me know that everything was “alright”. She got me a cup of hot chocolate and just talked to me. It was very hot and she took off one of her white gloves and wrapped it around the paper cup so I wouldn’t burn my hand. The hot chocolate and conversation calmed my nerves and pretty soon I was bobbing for apples. That’s all I remember.
My next big Halloween remembrance took place in the fourth grade. A couple of my friends and I were making the rounds of neighborhood houses, seeking our candy treasures, and I tripped on the curb. It was a simple misstep, and my friends and I continued on.
The next morning I couldn’t walk. My mom took me to the doctor. They ended up taking an ex-ray of my ankle and discovered a “chipped bone”. The doctor wrapped my ankle in a plaster cast that went up my leg to just below my knee. The cast had a green rubber knob on the bottom so I could still walk. They called it a “walking cast” and I had to wear it for six weeks. I had to stay off of my feet for a couple of days so the cast could harden. After that I hobbled around with one leg about three inches longer than the other.
Today they would probably rub spit and dirt on it and tell you to get on your way. Either that, or they would give you a fancy boot to wear, or even better a cool, little scooter to kneel on as you wheel yourself around. But not way back then.
The first costume that I remember was I went as a “china man” in the fifth grade. David 
Nelson, from the Ozzie and Harriet Show, dressed as a “china man” and I thought it was cool. My mom had a kimono so I was set. She stuffed my hair under a nylon stocking and I became bald. What do you think?
As you can see in the picture, much like a mailman, a Halloween party at school was no reason to shirk my duties as a proud member of the school safety patrol. My safety patrol belt was not actually a part of my costume but I had a duty to perform.
Another memory is my dad and his call to arms during the Halloween season. While most kids said “trick or treat” as they traveled from house to house “begging for candy” as dad liked to say. His go to mantra was “help the poor – help the poor”. I didn’t know if we were poor, but I went along with any saying that would encourage people to give me candy.
Each Halloween night ended the same way. My sisters and I came home, dumped our loot on the living room floor, and sorted everything. I made three piles.
# 1. Mom and dad if you would like something from this pile it’s OK.
#2. These are my favorites.
#3. These are really, really, really special so if you touch these you die.
It was a simple system but it worked, and if I rationed everything appropriately, my candy stash lasted until Christmas.
OMG. What a costume!