Tom and Diane Neiper (JJ's grandparents) home safely after leading a tour through the Vermont countryside. Leaves were just past their peak Diane reports, but the visit to the Von Trapp Lodge was a highlight . . . A reminder that the big bargain-laden bazaar at Harris Street Church (Harris at Third) is this Saturday. Eileen Young, majordomo, promises lots of good stuff . . . as an old newspaper man I thought today's Pat-News editorial on the mayoral candidates was a sad piece of business. Either the editors endorsed both candidates or neither; it is hard to say. With "reporting" like this it is no surprise that newspapers are failing left and right . . .
My Halloween c. 1943
As a child of the ‘40s my Halloween was confined to one night of pranks . . . Nights were very dark (wartime blackouts) unless there was a moon . . . History says we tipped over outhouses, but I never knew of one being up-ended. We threw shelled corn at windows to frighten the people inside who were huddled around their radios. Some adventurous souls scribbled on windows with a sliver of soap. Trees were bedecked with rolls of toilet paper (a wasteful use of a valuable wartime commodity) . . . But the best prank was exchanging porch furniture and watching the next day as people wandered the neighborhood with a foreign object. “Is this your chair (swing, plant, rug)? No? Do you know whose it is?” . . . Sometimes a group of men would hide in the bushes to protect their property and scare the be-Jesus out of us when we came close. They would give chase and we would scurry for our lives. Being scared instead of scaring was part of the thrill . . . We made all our decorations and costumes. Orange and black construction paper was scarce but we always managed to have a couple of pieces for witches and bats. We carved pumpkins and found short ends of candles which lit them up for at least a couple of minutes. Most of us wore sheets to parties and envied the kids who had “real” costumes—pirates and princesses were popular. Strangely I don’t recall anyone masquerading in military garb; I guess that was too real to us . . . there were parties with both adults and kids in the crowd. Cider and gingerbread were staples, and “bobbing for apples” was the game of choice. (Fruit floating in a washtub that you had to grab with your teeth for you young readers who never tried it; more difficult than you might expect and you always got wet) . . . parades were subdued afternoon affairs and usually consisted of we costumed kids marching around the school a couple of times; if parents could get free from their wartime jobs they would be there to cheer us on . . . the idea of paying ransom in the form of treats to avoid the pranks didn’t take hold until after the war; of course, in my early days there wasn’t any chocolate in the stores anyway. A Hershey bar was the manna of the gods and was adored in its wrapper for a few days before the paper came off and we shared it (very reluctantly) with other members of the household . . .
My Halloween c. 1943
As a child of the ‘40s my Halloween was confined to one night of pranks . . . Nights were very dark (wartime blackouts) unless there was a moon . . . History says we tipped over outhouses, but I never knew of one being up-ended. We threw shelled corn at windows to frighten the people inside who were huddled around their radios. Some adventurous souls scribbled on windows with a sliver of soap. Trees were bedecked with rolls of toilet paper (a wasteful use of a valuable wartime commodity) . . . But the best prank was exchanging porch furniture and watching the next day as people wandered the neighborhood with a foreign object. “Is this your chair (swing, plant, rug)? No? Do you know whose it is?” . . . Sometimes a group of men would hide in the bushes to protect their property and scare the be-Jesus out of us when we came close. They would give chase and we would scurry for our lives. Being scared instead of scaring was part of the thrill . . . We made all our decorations and costumes. Orange and black construction paper was scarce but we always managed to have a couple of pieces for witches and bats. We carved pumpkins and found short ends of candles which lit them up for at least a couple of minutes. Most of us wore sheets to parties and envied the kids who had “real” costumes—pirates and princesses were popular. Strangely I don’t recall anyone masquerading in military garb; I guess that was too real to us . . . there were parties with both adults and kids in the crowd. Cider and gingerbread were staples, and “bobbing for apples” was the game of choice. (Fruit floating in a washtub that you had to grab with your teeth for you young readers who never tried it; more difficult than you might expect and you always got wet) . . . parades were subdued afternoon affairs and usually consisted of we costumed kids marching around the school a couple of times; if parents could get free from their wartime jobs they would be there to cheer us on . . . the idea of paying ransom in the form of treats to avoid the pranks didn’t take hold until after the war; of course, in my early days there wasn’t any chocolate in the stores anyway. A Hershey bar was the manna of the gods and was adored in its wrapper for a few days before the paper came off and we shared it (very reluctantly) with other members of the household . . .
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