Life Lessons

Help the Poor

I’m not a fan of Halloween.  Growing up I liked the dressing up and getting free candy part, but I didn’t like the scary stuff. When I was in first grade, I was invited to my first Halloween party.  Marjorie, one of my first-grade classmates, had a party at her house.  My mom dressed me like a girl for the event.  I think her decision to do so was determined by her budget more than anything.  I don’t know where she got the dress, but she did. Marjorie’s older sisters helped organize the party and they were dressed as witches.  They scared the heck out of me, and I cowered in the corner of Marjorie’s basement.

That party was held over seventy years ago and I still remember one of the witches coming to my aid.  She revealed her true identity and coaxed me out of the corner.  Then she gave me some hot chocolate. The paper cup was hot, so she took off one of her white gloves and wrapped it around the cup so I wouldn’t burn my hand.  I hope I never forget that act of kindness.

I don’t know if my dad was a fan of Halloween.  I do know that he offered up the chant, “Help the poor”, rather than “Trick or treat”.  Several of my friends said the same thing, so we alternated between “Help the poor” and “Trick or treat” as we walked from house to house.

Somewhere along the line we added, “Help the poor my pants are tore“.

And then there was “Trick or treat, smell my feet, give me something good to eat.  If you don’t, I don’t care. I’ll pull down your underwear

When I Googled its’ origin, I found this. The term “trick or treat” wasn’t fully established in American culture until the year 1951. The custom of going door to door for treats had been derailed by the sugar-rationing of World War II.

That’s why my dad always said, “Help the poor.”  People had been saying that for decades, and for many years, they truly were.  My dad referred to the event as “going begging”.  As in “How are you dressing up to go begging this year?”  My two sisters were born in 1950 and 54, so they may not recall the begging reference at all.

I remember one Halloween early in my teaching career when I dressed in black face and a dress.  It was Ruth and my first Halloween as a married couple. We’d only been married for about six weeks. We had a staff party at someone’s house.   Flip Wilson had a popular television show at the time, and I dressed like one of his characters, Geraldine.  I could imitate her voice, so that’s why I took on her persona.  Ruth dressed as Little Bo Peep.  You know, the girl who lost her sheep.

When I became elementary school principal in Addison, one of my duties was to lead the annual school Halloween parade.  No one mentioned that during my interview.  When I showed up without a costume on Halloween in 1977, my secretary, Donna, asked me where my costume was.  That’s the moment I learned about the parade and my expected leadership.

Not one to panic, I went over to the high school and asked the high school principal, Don, if I could borrow one of the football team’s uniforms.  He escorted me down to the equipment room and in few magical moments I was a football player.

The following year I donned a lab coat and a stethoscope.  I was a doctor.  The lab coat and stethoscope hung in my office for the remainder of my time in Addison.  I led fifteen parades as an elementary school principal. One as a football player and fourteen as a doctor.

As much as I dislike ghosts and goblins, I love my memories from when I was a younger man even if they’re part of Halloween.

 

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *