Originally published October 31, 2014

It was October 31, 1959, and my friend Doug Bidgood and I had almost finished filling our shopping bags with tricks and treats, and we were excited to get home and sort through all our goodies.

We were both 9 years old.

We dressed up as scary as possible on previous Halloweens, but I don’t remember ever scaring anybody.

However, that Halloween was different because someone got really frightened.

And that someone was going to me!

Let me explain…

Earlier that day, we rushed home from school to get dressed in our homemade costumes before it got dark.

We knew that the earlier we got out onto the street, the more trick or treats we would be able to collect before our curfew.

At nine years old, the curfew was 8:00 PM because school usually started in the morning.

Usually, it only took a couple of hours to fill our bags.

On this particular Halloween, we dressed up like girls, complete with pigtails fashioned by our moms by braiding several pairs of nylons.

We wore my older sister’s dresses and running shoes because Doug had no sisters.

Our moms applied the makeup, including lipstick, mascara, and even some rouge for our cheeks.

We also had clip-on earrings and a necklace to add to the authenticity.

Nobody would ever confuse us as boys, we thought.

Besides, everyone knew girls always got more stuff on Halloween than boys!

Neither of us bothered having dinner that night – we were too excited!

Besides, plenty of goodies would be available in a few hours!

In previous years, we would stay reasonably close to home and only canvassed houses within a 4-5 block radius.

But that night, we decided to venture further into other neighborhoods because we were now big boys and had large paper shopping bags (with handles) to fill.

We had almost filled our bags and were within a few blocks of home when the teenagers suddenly appeared and ambushed us.

Doug screamed and began running down the street, while I got roughed up and then pinned to the ground.  As I was being held down and punched, the other bullies were going through my bag of goodies.

I started to cry and scream like a banshee, and the boys ran off laughing with my bag of sweet treasures.

I walked home alone – Doug was nowhere to be seen.

I remember passing other kids on my way home, but I didn’t care if they saw me crying.

As I walked into the house, mascara ran down my cheeks, and I began telling my parents what had happened.

But I was finding it difficult to talk and cry at the same time.

The news of the ambush/robbery spread quickly through the neighborhood, and the following evening, an unexpected person knocked at our front door.

My sister’s Girl Guide leader had collected treats from all the Girl Guides to give me.

And the day after, several kids from my school shared some of their candy, too.

I don’t remember ever going out for Halloween after that.

And although that Halloween was 66 years ago, I still remember the anguishing pain.

But what I remember most is how special it felt to have other kids share their goodies with me.

And silly, unforgiving me – I hoped those bullies choked on my candies!

I never hung around Doug much after that, even though we grew up across the street.

In high school, we went our separate ways.

I worked with Doug at General Motors of Canada Limited, in the Service Parts Operations (SPO) division from 1988 to 1997 during my tenure with the company (1978 to 2005).

However, I never considered him a friend after entering high school in 1963.

As a famous mentor of mine once said,

“When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time.” ~ Maya Angelou

Maybe I’ll see a boy dressed like a girl on Halloween this year. If so, I’ll fill their bag with goodies.

Never give up on your dreams.

Dedicated to the Oshawa Girl Guides

I hope my stories are a gift to your head and heart.

Hugs,

Danny

Today’s tune from Danny’s library (purchased):

If you miss the train I’m on
You will know that I am gone
You can hear the whistle blow a hundred miles
A hundred miles, a hundred miles
A hundred miles, a hundred miles
You can hear the whistle blow a hundred miles

Lord, I’m one, Lord, I’m two
Lord, I’m three, Lord, I’m four
Lord, I’m five hundred miles away from home
Away from home, away from home
Away from home, away from home
Lord, I’m five hundred miles away from home

Not a shirt on my back
Not a penny to my name
Lord, I can’t go back home this a-way
This a-away, this a-way
This a-way, this a-way
Lord, I can’t go back home this a-way

[Banjo Solo]

If you miss the train I’m on
You will know that I am gone
You can hear the whistle blow a hundred miles
A hundred miles, a hundred miles
A hundred miles, a hundred miles
You can hear the whistle blow a hundred miles

You can hear the whistle blow a hundred miles.

Songwriters: Hedy West