THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, November 5, 1995 TAG: 9511020210
SECTION: CAROLINA COAST PAGE: 08 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Editorial
SOURCE: Ronald L. Speer
LENGTH: Medium: 73 lines
Normally, I don't do much about Halloween, which in recent years has seemed to be a dying holiday.
One of the reasons the trick-or-treat night has lost favor is that most parents don't want their young 'uns wandering around strange streets at night. Another is that in an age when candy and goodies are everyday fare for most kids, a treat on Halloween isn't all that special.
And with blazing light and sound effects on television shows and movies, it's probably hard for kids nowadays to get worked up over a few lighted pumpkins or swinging sheets representing ghosts.
But last year, the first Halloween in our new home on Roanoke Island, about 50 kids, most in costume, did come around.
So this year I decided to make the night special, and it was, at least for me.
With the help of two experts on things that scare kids - neighbor boys Scott and Grant Tate - I rigged a pulley on a cable between two tall trees, tied a glowing life-sized plastic skeleton to the pulley, lit it with a flashlight and hooked it to a string.
Hidden on the porch behind a curtain like the Great Oz, I could pull the skeleton out of sight with the line, and then let it swoop down the cable at the unexpecting kids like a hawk diving on rabbits.
I thought it was pretty frightening, and so did Scott and Grant.
``I hope it doesn't scare the little kids,'' said Grant, 6. ``It's really spooky.''
Then we made a scary Halloween tape recording to add to the drama, lighted some pumpkin monsters and hung up half a dozen friendly faced ghosts. With scores of treats in a basket, we were all set.
Tuesday night the kids started coming just after dark, and the tape recorder quit working almost immediately. So I just sang out, ``Goooooo Baaaaaack, Goooooo Baaaaaack'' at the top of my lungs, steadily, and then unleashed the skeleton on the startled visitors.
None of them seemed all that scared, not even the little toddlers. They streamed past the dancing bunch of bones without a visible quiver and marched up the steps to where my mother-in-law was doling out the goodies.
I was amazed at their bravery. Until I went inside for more candy and saw on television a SWAT team in camouflage uniforms pumping bullets from assault weapons into a house. Anybody who watches television sees such things most every night.
My skeleton didn't seem frightening at all compared with the real world.
But the kids seemed to love Old Ralph, as Grant and I called the skeleton, and I had a ball. The Halloween revelers came for two and a half hours, and 107 stopped by before I shut down.
My mother-in-law - who at 88 has seen a lot of Halloweens - thought it was one of her favorite holidays.
``And the kids were polite and gentle, every single one of them,'' Louise said.
They were. Not a naughty word, a mean shout or a nasty comment did I hear. Most all of them said thanks when they got their treats.
And most of them were in costume: dozens of princesses and pirates and turtles and cowpunchers and clowns and ghosts and skeletons and ogres and even a grownup lady who was dressed like a tuna. Really.
For a few hours, in my neighborhood at least, it seemed like the best of the olden days, with polite kids and parents who care about them.
We ran out of candy just before 8 p.m., went through a pan of brownies and then - at Grant's suggestion - gave out dimes to the final stragglers.
It was a grand night.
We turned off the lights and went inside. On television, Newt Gingrich was explaining what he plans to do to the common folks to balance the budget.
Now THAT'S scary! by CNB