Halloween memories a haunting blend of tricks and treats Door-to-lore

Everybody loves coming home from a long night of trick-or-treating with a pillowcase full of candy. But sometimes, the most memorable Halloween experiences have more to do with tricks than treats.

For my younger sister, her funniest Halloween started out like any other. It happened about seven years ago, when she was in her early teens. Since she looks young, she probably had a few good years left in her before she had to make the shift from collecting candy to collecting cash for UNICEF. But after that night, she hung up her hat on the whole holiday.

It may have been an innocent mistake. We lived on a busy street where people didn’t see too many trick-or-treaters. And my sister and her friend both were dressed in head-to-toe costumes. But when they knocked on the door of one of our neighbors, they didn’t expect to be mistaken for grown-up guests and swept into a full-scale Halloween party, with plenty of beer on tap.

“How could I forget that?” my sister, Jessica, said. “I mean, I don’t know how I could ever forget that. It was this raging party and everybody was like, ‘Why are all these little kids here?'”

Though the girls tried to blend in, they were much shorter than the other guests, and their wide-eyed amazement at the whole scene probably was evident on their faces. My father, who was waiting outside, thought the neighbors had a haunted house or something, but after about 10 minutes, he started to wonder.

“It was long enough for Dad to have been concerned,” she said, laughing. “I think the people at the party thought it was funny.”

Compared with that, my trick-or-treating experiences were pretty lame. Half the time, our neighbors didn’t have candy, since no one ever went door-to-door where I lived. I’d end up with an interesting mix of miniature chocolate bars, pennies, apples, oranges or whatever else people could rustle up. I even got a box of Triscuits one year – low sodium, no less.

Every child has one Halloween memory that stands out, whether it’s a wild party, an apple-bobbing mishap or a box full of crackers. In the following anecdotes, some of my young friends and neighbors share the tricks and treats that make the holiday special for them.

Since I moved to Bangor, my Halloweens have changed dramatically. In the neighborhood where I live now, a bag of candy doesn’t last five minutes, so there’s no hope for leftovers. My friend Charlotte Zelz, 51/2, who lives on the next street over, has devised a plan that may keep potential trick-or-treaters at bay: She and her parents hung a covey of paper bats from her porch, and Charlotte hopes they’ll scare people away.

“So we could eat all the candy ourselves,” she explained.

Despite this declaration, Charlotte said one of her favorite things about Halloween is giving out candy.

“It makes me feel so good, giving others something,” she said.

Charlotte will be dressed as a cow this year, as she was last year. Her favorite part of the costume is her treat bag, which is sewn in the shape of an udder. She will be accompanied by her dad, Eric, and her cow, Blossom, who will wear a swan costume.

Charlotte and Blossom both like to get Tootsie Rolls, but they don’t like candy corn or “that harvest mix.” And they don’t like Milky Way bars, either. When Charlotte talks about Milky Ways, she squinches up her face.

“Too sweet,” she says.

My pal and neighbor Leif Grosswiler, who is 61/2, isn’t a huge chocolate fan, either. He especially doesn’t like chocolate with nuts, and when he gets chocolate with nuts, he gives it away. Leif will be dressed as a red Power Ranger this Halloween (he was Spider Man last year). And he hopes to save the day – and earn a few SweetTarts – with his action-hero antics.

Will and Peter Benoit, who live down the street, prefer candy corn. Will is 7, and when I asked him if there was any candy he didn’t like, he said “not really.” Peter is 41/2, and he has been trick-or-treating for “a long time.” He has found that he doesn’t like “the stuff that I don’t like.”

Halloween in their neighborhood is “pretty scary,” Will says, because there are “a lot of scary costumes and a skeleton.” Will and Peter will be adding to the fright this Halloween, though, as both are dressing as ghosts.

Eli Levasseur, who is 5, will wear a glow-in-the-dark skeleton costume this year, but he insists that he is not a scary skeleton. Eli loves lollipops, but he doesn’t like fireballs because they’re too hot. His sister Amanda, who is 63/4, doesn’t have a favorite candy. She likes trick-or-treating with her friends, though, and can’t wait to dress up as a princess.

Amanda’s friend Colleen Moore likes to get lollipops as well, but she is firmly against chocolate coins. “I hate them,” she said. Colleen will dress as an angel this year, and her sister Molly will dress as a princess. Molly likes candy corn “because that’s my favorite.” Both sisters hope to get more candy this year than they have in years past.

“Sometimes I just get a little bit, but I really would like a big bag full,” Colleen said.

Eliza Garland, who is 121/2 years old, said she gets the best results while trick-or-treating at the Bangor Mall or in the Bangor Gardens neighborhood. She will be dressed as a spider lady this year, with a cobweb cape and a dress. Eliza detests candy corn, as many of the older children I spoke with do, but she loves Reese’s peanut butter cups.

None of the children I spoke with has ever been pulled into a wild Halloween party, which is probably a good thing. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t room for a few spooky surprises. One of my neighbors has a talking skeleton in his front yard, and it draws quite a crowd. A man who grew up on the same block remembers a couple who set up a haunted house in their foyer – and the kids couldn’t get candy until they walked through the frightening scene.

While the memories of peanut butter cups and candy corn (and especially raisins) may fade, the talking skeleton, the “raging party” or the haunted house won’t. Because it wouldn’t be Halloween without tricks and treats – and the occasional box of Triscuits.