Halloween

Today is Halloween. This is the day, of course, upon which spirits walk the streets and play tricks on us, unless we give them treats to convince them that we are ok and should not be subject to such tricks. Growing up in Dunwoody, this was the time of the year upon which the G______'s house, across the street, would often get egged. The house was a less than lovely shade of blue and the urchins of the neighborhood loved to antagonize the G_____s.

The G______s moved into the neighborhood when I and most of my friends in the neighborhood were around ten or eleven, an age before the raging of hormones might have caused us to look favorably on a household full of girls. At our age at the time, a house without other boys to play with held no great attraction. When we were in elementary school, one of the older boys in the neighborhood noticed some rustic breast augmentation (toilet paper) in the bra of one of the G______ girls. He rudely attempted to remove same and the offended G_______ daughter whirled around and attempted to plant a No. 2 pencil in the middle of his back. Some might say he got what he deserved. Others might argue that her response was more than was merited under the circumstances. Regardless, the relations between the neighborhood boys and the G____ girls went downhill from there.

One of my friends, who lived outside of our neighborhood, later dated one of the G____ girls and thought they were all nice folks. Living outside of the neighborhood, he was somewhat short on the history of the G__________s and the boys in our neighborhood. Understandable but not forgiveable.

Other than the occasional egging of their house, little contact was kept with the G_____s over the years, despite their proximity. Several years later, a bunch of us boys were trying to launch a bottle rocket into the nighttime sky. Setting match to wick, the rocket soared into the night air, reached its apogee without exploding and headed downward toward the woods behind the G_______'s house. At the report of the gunpowder package secured inside the rocket, every boy in the neighborhood who valued his safety scattered in multiple directions toward the safety of hearth and home.

David Balfour, Frank and I opted for the nearness of our house. Running into the house, we entered the den, where my parents and sister Susan were watching television. Sliding into the den like Maury Wills or Ricky Henderson, we sat panting on the floor and tried to look nonchalant.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Freezing in our spots, David, Frank and I looked up at my dad, who glanced back at us as he got up and went to answer the door. My dad never answered the door. Never.

As he opened the door out to the carport from the kitchen, my dad could see Mr. G_______ standing there in the light of the kitchen and who accusingly stated, "Your boys fired off some fireworks and it exploded in front of our kitchen window while we were eating supper."

My dad considered Mr. G______'s haughty countenance and said,"How many boys were there?"

Mr. G__________ huffed and said, "There must have been ten or twelve of them."

As my dad calmly closed the door, leaving Mr. G_______ alone out in the nighttime darkness of the carport, he stated simply, "I only have two boys."

My dad was never more heroic.

We found out later that the reason why these rockets tended to arc and alter their trajectory was probably due to the fact that we liked to decorate the rockets with stickers, paint and other heavy decoration, which often caused the lit rockets to bend and twist and go in directions in which we didn't intend.

One Christmas evening, Frank and I lit one of these rockets in celebration of Christmas, only to watch it spurt off ten or fifteen feet into the air, then make a 90 degree turn to the west toward our next door neighbors' house. At the turning of the trajectory of the rocket toward our neighbors, Frank and I hustled back into our house, and timidly looked outside through the baywindow to see where the rocket landed. Unfortunately, the rocket had burrowed its way into the pinestraw in front of the neighbor's house. When it exploded, the brief flame caught the pinestraw and Frank and I had to quickly run back outside and next door to put the fire out.

I think that was the last time we fired a rocket off in the front yard.

Did you know that the original jack-o-lanterns were hollowed out turnips? Its hard to imagine carrying around lit turnips on Halloween. Of course, they would be easier to carry than pumpkins.

Today is John Keats' birthday. He is definitely one of my favorites. When Cindy and I were first married, I used to read Keats to her in bed at night. We became quite famous around town for our nightly poetry sessions. Keats is definitely one of the best for romantic readings at night. Maybe I'll try that tonight. After the spirits settle down.