When I was a little girl, we didn’t have many trick-or-treaters since we lived in a very rural area. But there would be a few, and I recall Mom making homemade fudge and wrapping it in wax paper to hand out on Halloween. This was, of course, in the days before zip-lock sandwich bags (and evil folks putting bad things in candy).
But the Halloween that I was seven was a turning point. Mom had severely broken her ankle that summer and was still in a cast and using crutches in October. I was afraid of my own shadow, so there was no way I was going to go to the door. So Mom did what you’re supposed to do: our porch light was off and our curtains were drawn. The next morning, we discovered that someone had ‘keyed’ her car.
To say I had a difficult time in school would be putting it mildly. These days it’s called bullying: back then it was ‘teasing’. These days there is probably counseling for those affected: back then, victims just had to deal with it and hopefully, eventually move on. When I was probably an adolescent/early teen, some younger PUNKS on the bus created a name for me and even wrote a song. Believe me, it was not a good thing. Listening to that on the long bus ride to school every morning did nothing to get my day started in a good way. And hearing it on the afternoon ride just made getting home and off that bus even sweeter.
One Halloween, during this time, one of those PUNKS painted that name on the highway in front of our driveway. And yes, I had to get on the bus that morning to the sound of their taunting laughter. Mom called VDOT (Virginia Department of Transportation) as soon as possible to come paint over their ‘artwork’.
BUT, once Marshall was old enough to trick-or-treat, those old Halloween memories were put on the back burner. We had fun coming up with ideas for his costume, and I enjoyed making them.
And in recent years, I’ve enjoyed dressing up for Halloween.
Fun lunches with friends:
And to ride with my friends on their gorgeous horses.
But Motor Man and I are Halloween scrooges and never give out candy. We keep our porch light off and all our curtains drawn to let the kids know that we aren’t participating.
Last night, around 6:30 (nearly dark), we heard someone at our door. We didn’t answer. This was our Ring camera footage:
If your speakers are on, you can hear one of them say something similar to: “they aren’t giving out candy; they’re probably already in bed.”
PUNKS.
~These Days Of Mine~
these days of mine 
I’m sorry for those taunting memories, but am thankful that your happy memories outweigh them. …And what fun you’re having!
We don’t do trick or treaters either – out here in the country.
There will always be punks, won’t there? And I blame parents. Anyway, I too am sorry for your past experiences, but that’s where they belong – in the past. You always manage to have fun and make great memories now and that’s what counts, my friend. P.S. We don’t participate in trick or treat either; country living helps. 🙂
If you were to leave a bowl of candy out with a sign that read ” take one piece “, they’re the type who would open a backpack & dump the whole thing in.
I really enjoyed this post – even though you had to delve into some less-than-happy memories from years ago – those school buses were worse than the classrooms.
I guess we all have Trick or Treat memories from our childhood – back in the days before you had to be careful of unwrapped things and homemade candies/cookies. We have always enjoyed seeing the kids’ costumes when they come here although there are very few little ones in this neighborhood anymore. My favorite time was not long after we moved in here and on that first Halloween three pretty teenaged girls dressed in fancy gowns came up our driveway side-saddle on beautiful horses to hand out candy – not asking for it but handing it out – they asked if we had any children who might like to ride on the horses…….what a wonderful and sweet thing to do. The farm they lived on has since turned into a housing development but that was an all-time favorite Halloween memory!
Pam
I am so sorry for those memories that are so hurtful. I would have been your best friend! Trust me. I would have loved little you. I always was drawn to those who got bullied and I was the recipient of that myself. It’s so hard to think back on some of those events, isn’t it? I hope you know that you are pretty darn special and were back then even if the punks didn’t know or realize it. Happy November!