Halloween

After the age of nine, Halloween ceased its allure. The last childhood Halloween I recall involved taking a younger and favorite cousin trick or treating.  He and his mother were staying with my family so that she could complete some necessary medical items before joining my Uncle at a new duty station in Okinawa, Japan. It was 1969 and my mother, stepfather and I had moved to our new neighborhood that August.

I had difficulty with this move, going to yet another school, missing friends and neighbors and feeling like I did not fit in. My younger cousin, then four, shadowed me and still loved the excitement of a costume and candy. Thanks to our grandmother, he was gifted with a clown suit and ruff previously worn by others in the family. I, meanwhile, was dressed as a gypsy, using an old dance costume of my mother's and some lipstick and jewelry. 

Photos were taken but for the life of me, I have no idea whatever became of them. Warned by my mother to only visit homes where the neighbors were known to us, I calculated that we'd be home in five minutes. As we set off hand in hand, Michael whispered that his neck itched and commenced scratching. By the time we reached the door of the first house and gotten an offering of candy, he looked as if a rash was overtaking one side of his neck. 

Ever the do-er, I yanked the ruff off, asking if he felt better without it and began scurrying from house to house, telling him to see how much candy he could get in the shortest amount of time since it would soon be dark. Our plastic Jacko-lantern bulged by the time we circled for home and Michael with his reddish hair and freckles matched with an impish grin had every young girl and woman's heart melting up and down our road.

I wish he were alive today to share this memory.

Below is a photo of me in 1967 dressed as a bunny.