Growing up in rural NH, Halloween was about driving.
It wasn’t like the fun Halloweens I’ve had since I lived in Madison and Arkansas, where we all dress up our kids and dogs and walk around in strange things called “neighborhoods.” In my hometown, the neighborhood was an 8-mile road that dead-ended in a lake.
I don’t remember a lot of Halloweens, but I know they always involved a car.
Except one year, we had a van.
I think it was my sophomore or junior year…maybe senior. I don’t remember my costume (it might have been “mad scientist” year). All I remember is a bunch of us taking my friend trick-or-treating…for the first time. He had to be at least 14 or 15 years old. Let me say that again. For one reason or another, this guy had Never. Been. Trick. Or. Treating. As far as I’m concerned, that’s blasphemy. (Well, I guess technically celebrating the pagan All Hallows Eve might be more blasphemous, but who’s counting?)
So we all dressed up and piled into the van, a bunch of high schoolers acting like little kids. I couldn’t tell you where we went, what we wore, or who was in the van other than the trick-or-treating virgin. We drove around on a perfectly windy, creepy New England night, accompanied by the perfectly spooky rattle of branches and rustle of leaves. Adults looked at us with varying degrees of indulgence or skepticism as we rang their doorbells, but we didn’t care.
I remember laughing. A lot. And though visiting Eureka Springs’ White Street on Halloween a couple of years ago ran a close second, I think this night back in the ’90s wins for “Best Halloween Ever.”
This post is the 2nd a series I’ve written as part of Arkansas Women Bloggers BLOGtober Fest Blogging Challenge. Lots of bloggers are writing posts on pre-selected topics – and you can view them all at Arkansas Women Bloggers.