I think it's time for another spooky tale, don't you? And yes, as always, it's 100% true.
This little story takes place on Halloween I believe in 1985. Halloweens were always the best in our neighborhood because it was (and is) just so sprawling and inviting. Everyone participated; the yards were decorated, Jack O' Lanterns were lit and set on porches, Haunted Houses were set up in people's lawns, and hundreds of kids marched from house to house barking their Halloween mantra and getting their requisite treats. It was definitely one time of year where the whole neighborhood came together and enjoyed the evening.
This particular year was to be a bit different, though. It would become one of the most frightening Halloweens I have ever experienced both before and since. And maybe it was because I was only 11, and likely because I had yet to fully and truly embrace horror and fear as more of an exciting feeling and less of a stomach-churning terror. Either way, the events that unfolded that night are very hard to forget.
As was per the norm, regardless of how old the kids got (as I said, I was 11 and my brother was 8 and 1/2), the dads from all over the little community took them out Trick-Or-Treating. In our case, my little sister (5) stayed at home with my mom and handed out candy. It wouldn't be till the next year that she would join us on our annual pilgrimages. Sadly, however, I don't remember what our costumes were that year. I have pictures of various outfits we wore over the course of those years on Suffolk, and it might be safe to say that that particular year I was a werewolf (gee, maybe I kind of did dig just enough of the creepy to pick out a cool costume) and my brother was a giant spider. What ever the case, it was time to fill our pillow cases with the delicious treats of the season.
Unlike the Trick-Or-Treats of today (it's amazing what a difference 27 years make) we always waited until it was dark out... like fully dark, none of this 'sunset' nonsense of today. Sure, we had flashlights because hey, no one wanted to trip and everyone wanted to see each other's costumes; it was never because we feared weirdos walking around or creepy people with evil intentions. Well, maybe we should have, in this case.
This particular year, we walked with Matt and Rich Durian and their dad. Our fathers had gotten close enough to partner up for Halloween, and they seemed like they had a good time, anyway. We met up at the edge of our yards on the sidewalk, and took off on our merry way stopping at every house we could. Now, our house was (and still is) only a few houses from the west end of Suffolk, and by the time we got there, a few other groups of dads and kids had made their way to our six-person party and had slowed enough to chat up my pop, as well as Mr. Durian. The conversation was slightly muffled, and we were excited to move on, but we clearly heard 'stranger' and 'Frankenstein'... and no, I am not making that up. My brother and I surmised that there was a 'stranger' in the neighborhood dressed as 'Frankenstein', and we were right.
My dad gathered the Durian boys and us together, and told us to stay close because there might be something weird going on, but there was nothing to worry about. A father telling his kids something 'weird' was happening and not to 'worry' immediately caused the opposite reaction. I was instantly scared, and my brother basically had one foot heading toward home. But the dads calmed us down, and said we needed to remember the fun we were about to have and to just stick close rather than wander too far ahead. It must have worked because we went on about our business, only a little more wary and a lot more paranoid.
It seemed the further we worked our way into the neighborhood, there were more and more dads informed of the potential situation. Soon, it seemed so many people knew, that even some of the older kids we walked past were talking about some huge guy stumbling around who either looked like, or, in fact was, Frankenstein. Our fears were piqued and we were on high alert as we weaved up and down driveways and walks, and in and out of lawns getting our gains and trying to maintain a level of fun at the same time. But it was difficult as the evening progressed, and we couldn't help but check over our shoulders just to make sure we weren't being pursued by some giant creature. We got our candy supply, and gradually Trick-Or-Treated around the connecting streets to the east end of Suffolk.
It was a melancholic mix of happiness to finally be close to home, and exhaustion from being on monster watch all night, as we finished up the last few houses and prepared to end our evening.
And then we saw him.
Walking with a perfect hitch and a stuttering gait coming up the west-end of our street was Frankenstein's Monster. His echoing wails could be heard over the terrified caterwauling of the kids that were fleeing in all directions into the arms of their collective fathers. We stopped dead about fifty yards away, still too far from our house to simply make a run for it and slam the door behind us. My level of panic was so far in the red a could literally feel my legs getting weak and that tell-tale buzz arcing through my head that attempted to trigger my Fight-Or-Flight response. But my dad was right behind me only pressurizing the situation by asking us what we thought it was, and if we were scared.
Scared?
I was petrified and if I, for one second, thought that dropping my candy and careening through people's yards just to get back to the safety of my house would get me there faster, I would gladly have done it. But just then, he turned, and began working his way to the other side of the street and moving away from us toward where ever else he could frighten the Hell out of some more kids. That was enough for us, and I'm pretty sure my brother was in sobbing hysterics at that point.
Once inside, it was all we could do not to jump into our mother's arms and rapidly attempt to regale the events of the evening. She was soothing, but a large smile played on her face and there was just something not quite right about it. My dad just hung back and laughed, admitting that whomever it was definitely look an awful lot like Frankenstein's Monster. And the more I think about it now, the more I have to assume it was all set up by someone on the neighborhood and just trickled to every father's ear throughout the night.
Ironically, any piece of candy I got that night that featured Frankenstein was immediately discarded. Cuz ya never know what might have brought him back...
This little story takes place on Halloween I believe in 1985. Halloweens were always the best in our neighborhood because it was (and is) just so sprawling and inviting. Everyone participated; the yards were decorated, Jack O' Lanterns were lit and set on porches, Haunted Houses were set up in people's lawns, and hundreds of kids marched from house to house barking their Halloween mantra and getting their requisite treats. It was definitely one time of year where the whole neighborhood came together and enjoyed the evening.
This particular year was to be a bit different, though. It would become one of the most frightening Halloweens I have ever experienced both before and since. And maybe it was because I was only 11, and likely because I had yet to fully and truly embrace horror and fear as more of an exciting feeling and less of a stomach-churning terror. Either way, the events that unfolded that night are very hard to forget.
As was per the norm, regardless of how old the kids got (as I said, I was 11 and my brother was 8 and 1/2), the dads from all over the little community took them out Trick-Or-Treating. In our case, my little sister (5) stayed at home with my mom and handed out candy. It wouldn't be till the next year that she would join us on our annual pilgrimages. Sadly, however, I don't remember what our costumes were that year. I have pictures of various outfits we wore over the course of those years on Suffolk, and it might be safe to say that that particular year I was a werewolf (gee, maybe I kind of did dig just enough of the creepy to pick out a cool costume) and my brother was a giant spider. What ever the case, it was time to fill our pillow cases with the delicious treats of the season.
Unlike the Trick-Or-Treats of today (it's amazing what a difference 27 years make) we always waited until it was dark out... like fully dark, none of this 'sunset' nonsense of today. Sure, we had flashlights because hey, no one wanted to trip and everyone wanted to see each other's costumes; it was never because we feared weirdos walking around or creepy people with evil intentions. Well, maybe we should have, in this case.
This particular year, we walked with Matt and Rich Durian and their dad. Our fathers had gotten close enough to partner up for Halloween, and they seemed like they had a good time, anyway. We met up at the edge of our yards on the sidewalk, and took off on our merry way stopping at every house we could. Now, our house was (and still is) only a few houses from the west end of Suffolk, and by the time we got there, a few other groups of dads and kids had made their way to our six-person party and had slowed enough to chat up my pop, as well as Mr. Durian. The conversation was slightly muffled, and we were excited to move on, but we clearly heard 'stranger' and 'Frankenstein'... and no, I am not making that up. My brother and I surmised that there was a 'stranger' in the neighborhood dressed as 'Frankenstein', and we were right.
My dad gathered the Durian boys and us together, and told us to stay close because there might be something weird going on, but there was nothing to worry about. A father telling his kids something 'weird' was happening and not to 'worry' immediately caused the opposite reaction. I was instantly scared, and my brother basically had one foot heading toward home. But the dads calmed us down, and said we needed to remember the fun we were about to have and to just stick close rather than wander too far ahead. It must have worked because we went on about our business, only a little more wary and a lot more paranoid.
It seemed the further we worked our way into the neighborhood, there were more and more dads informed of the potential situation. Soon, it seemed so many people knew, that even some of the older kids we walked past were talking about some huge guy stumbling around who either looked like, or, in fact was, Frankenstein. Our fears were piqued and we were on high alert as we weaved up and down driveways and walks, and in and out of lawns getting our gains and trying to maintain a level of fun at the same time. But it was difficult as the evening progressed, and we couldn't help but check over our shoulders just to make sure we weren't being pursued by some giant creature. We got our candy supply, and gradually Trick-Or-Treated around the connecting streets to the east end of Suffolk.
It was a melancholic mix of happiness to finally be close to home, and exhaustion from being on monster watch all night, as we finished up the last few houses and prepared to end our evening.
And then we saw him.
Walking with a perfect hitch and a stuttering gait coming up the west-end of our street was Frankenstein's Monster. His echoing wails could be heard over the terrified caterwauling of the kids that were fleeing in all directions into the arms of their collective fathers. We stopped dead about fifty yards away, still too far from our house to simply make a run for it and slam the door behind us. My level of panic was so far in the red a could literally feel my legs getting weak and that tell-tale buzz arcing through my head that attempted to trigger my Fight-Or-Flight response. But my dad was right behind me only pressurizing the situation by asking us what we thought it was, and if we were scared.
Scared?
I was petrified and if I, for one second, thought that dropping my candy and careening through people's yards just to get back to the safety of my house would get me there faster, I would gladly have done it. But just then, he turned, and began working his way to the other side of the street and moving away from us toward where ever else he could frighten the Hell out of some more kids. That was enough for us, and I'm pretty sure my brother was in sobbing hysterics at that point.
Once inside, it was all we could do not to jump into our mother's arms and rapidly attempt to regale the events of the evening. She was soothing, but a large smile played on her face and there was just something not quite right about it. My dad just hung back and laughed, admitting that whomever it was definitely look an awful lot like Frankenstein's Monster. And the more I think about it now, the more I have to assume it was all set up by someone on the neighborhood and just trickled to every father's ear throughout the night.
Ironically, any piece of candy I got that night that featured Frankenstein was immediately discarded. Cuz ya never know what might have brought him back...
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