Leon Sets Town on Straight and Narrow!

Mom was a Bible believing, deep woods, way back up in the hills, Southern Baptist. She wouldn’t give a flying hoot about this “contemporary” versus “traditional” worship that is bumping around in churches today. Her byword was “Serve the Lord with all your heart. Period!” It was as plain as John 3:16 to her. She didn’t hold much with dancing. And she cast a wary eye on card playing and going to the picture show on Sunday. 

She was particularly alarmed about the celebration of Halloween. She didn’t hold much with what she felt was “honoring ghost, ghouls, witches and goblins”. Me and Leon and David Mark were careful to agree with her in principle. But listen here, if we put on a Lone Ranger mask and went over to Mrs. Boaz’s house and held out a paper sack, she dropped a Tootsie Roll in it. Free for nothing! She’d smile and reach down and do the same thing for Leon and Dave. I’m telling you, it was like stealing..... Sorry, Mom. 

We didn’t think it all that bad. We certainly weren’t caught up in some kind of fight between “principalities, rulers of the darkness of this world or against spiritual wickedness in high places”….we simply wanted the candy for goodness sakes! Even God couldn’t hold that against an eight year old.

We hurried on down to the Kennon house. We’d yell “trick or treat” in unison and Mr. Woodrow would pat us on the head and drop in some Hershey bars. Now, people, this was 1955. They didn’t make them tiny bite size morsels. These were full size candy bars! We sprinted from house to house. We’d get Juicy Fruit gum, fire balls, candy cigarettes, Milk Duds, Sugar Babies and sometimes homemade brownies. Our biggest problem was the houses were kinda spread out…..and we didn’t want to miss anyone or get there after the candy ran out! We’d sweat plumb through our masks and those cowboy boots were not exactly track shoes.

We did not have to worry about arsenic laced Clark bars or spiked miniature wax Coca Cola bottles. Nobody would even think of sliding a razor blade into a Sugar Daddy. And no evil guys lurked in the shadows seeking to pounce on the little kids as they hurried to the next house. We have, regrettably, over the years given credence to some of the fears Mom expressed in my first encounter with Halloween.

Leon was the oldest and he’d make us pour all of our goodies out on the living room rug. He’d then divide up the loot among the three of us. I noticed right off that me and Dave were getting mostly jaw breakers, gum and rock candy. His pile grew extemporaneously large with Baby Ruths, Butterfingers and Almond Joys. The fight broke out immediately! I reckon maybe Mom had a clue about this thing after all.

Halloween, as you know, was invented by dentist and the Hershey Company. We looked forward to the season. Real store bought candy was hard to come by way out at the end of Stonewall Street. We absconded with the goodies for as many years as our age would permit. Mom would lecture on the evils of the entire premise of the festival and we readily agreed as we threw on a Batman cape or a white sheet and hurried toward the nearest neighbor. By junior high the game was over. It was hard for Mrs. Boaz to reach up to put the Tootsie Roll in our bag.

Too old to feast off the candy, we discovered the “trick” in the holiday. Yogi taught us one of the all time great uses for rubbing alcohol. We’d very quietly pour a stream from the front door of an unsuspecting neighbor down the sidewalk all the way out to the street. One of us would knock on the door and run while the other hunkered down by the road. Timing it just right the “torch man” would light the alcohol just a split second before the door was opened. Instead of some little caped crusader with outreached arms Mrs. Boaz was greeted by a growing flame racing seeming non-stop right at her!

You don’t suppose Mom had some kind of prophetic powers?

One Halloween Leon got on that big horse, Prince, pulled his shirt up over his head, put a candle in a hollowed out pumpkin and prepared to race down Stonewall as the headless horseman. The idea was to scare all the little “trick or treaters” and to get the neighbors out of their houses. Spooked by the dark night and maybe unseen goblins, Prince took off like a shot out of a cannon. A hic-cup arose immediately; with his shirt pulled up over his eyes Leon couldn’t see his hand in front of his face. Of course, he couldn’t test that theory because one hand was holding a pumpkin and the other one was grasped tightly to the reins. The headless (no pun intended) horseman had kids tossing sacks of Zag Nuts and Peanut Logs into the air as they leaped out of his way. Prince hit every garbage can from Moore Avenue to the hill up by Jim William’s house. Dogs went to barking and howling at the moon. Stonewall lit up like one of those Pin Ball machines out at the Polar Bar! Leon and Prince thundered over the hill and disappeared like the end of one of those Perils of Pauline serials they showed down at the Park Theatre.

Mom never scolded or made much “to do” over Leon’s wild ride. She didn’t have to. The whole town spent weeks searching for those “principalities” and “rulers of darkness” and that “spiritual wickedness in high places”.

A mini-revival broke out at our house.

Happy Halloween,

Kes