There is a child in every one of us who is still a trick-or-treater looking for a brightly lit porch.

I do not believe that I will ever forget the excitement I had as a child growing up regarding Halloween. We lived on the west side of the City of Chicago, and our neighborhood was made up of young families with children of all ages. Back then, we couldn’t get home from school fast enough to put on our Halloween costumes, grab a brown paper shopping bag from mom’s pantry, and head out with our friends to go to as many homes as possible with the hope of filling up our bags with as much candy as possible.

Back in the 1950’s, when I did most of my “Trick or Treating,” we didn’t have store bought costumes or fancy masks. Our moms would spend time composing our costumes and then decorating our faces. As Ava Dellaira states, “on Halloween you get to become anything you want to be,” and our costumes covered the gamut from witches and clowns to ghosts and cowboys. We didn’t have a time limit for being out, although my older sister always kept me close by her side. When we came home with tired feet, mom would scour through our bounty, and eliminate anything she felt inappropriate for our consumption. While we were tired from our travels through the neighborhood, we shared stories of our adventures prior to going to bed.

Next Monday, our Darien children, (and some of their parents), will don their costumes, and renew the tradition of going door to door in the hope of filling their “goodie” bags with an assortment of candy. While this Halloween may be different from that of many of us who grew up in the 1950’s and 1960’s, our children and grandchildren will hopefully have great memories of their adventures, because the spirit of Halloween rests inside all of us,and will continue for generations to come. As Rusty Fischer states, “Sticky fingers, tired feet; one last house, trick or treat.”