ON THE EVE OF ALL HALLOWS' EVE

By Andrew Williams

Theories and feelings about Halloween are flying through the air like ghosts, goblins, witches and warlocks of yore. The Christians seem torn between examining it from a historical perspective to discover interlinkages with their faith or denouncing it as a harbinger of evil, while the pagan religions embrace it as a time of renewal and to honor and pray for the dead. But amidst all the hugger-mugger about the meaning of Halloween/All Hallows' Eve/Samhain, I'd like to put in a quiet word for the kid in all of us as a reminder about the sheer fun of celebrating Halloween.

Back when I was a youngling, before all the hullabaloo about snipers, good vs. evil and the four food groups, Halloween was a special, almost sacred time. Besides the fun of dressing up as doctors, lawyers, women, children, Indian chiefs, spacemen, Flemish merchants or idealized versions of the complete Renaissance man, we kids got to run around yelling nonsense and old people gave us candy. (Some of them gave us fruit and vegetables, but we were forgiving, figuring that they were too old to remember what the point of Hallow'een was. So we didn't egg or t.p. their houses. Much.)

Too often, in our technologically advanced, silicon-chipped hurry-up-and-wait culture, we forget this simple lesson, best phrased by science-fiction writer Theodore Sturgeon: "The more complex the mind, the greater the need for the simplicity of play." After all, how often do we have days where kids and adults play dress-up? How much peace and solitude do we allow ourselves in a world where war seems imminent and we are watched and listened to incessantly?

How playful are we in our own lives, whether in the backyard or the bedroom?

This Halloween is particularly important, for we on this part of the East Coast are just emerging from under the cloud of fear brought by the East Coast sniper(s). Other Halloweens have also been portrayed as fraught with peril: the various food poisoning/razor blade scares of decades past come to mind, as well as last year's Hallows' Eve, which came on the heels of the destruction of the World Trade Center.

I remember October 31, 2001 very well. I had my candy and props all set out, but I figured that with the prevailing climate of terror I would get few, if any, trick-or-treaters. I got over 30. I almost didn't have any candy left over for myself. Of course, most of the young ghoulies and ghosties showed up with their parental units in tow, but that's been pretty much de rigueur for the last three decades.

It is with fervent hope and great expectation that I await this All Hallows' Eve to see whether the culture of terror has taken us fully into its cold, firm claws, or if children will still be allowed to go door to door to spread laughter and get free candy. It is, as legions of writers have said before, the choice between living in basements and catacombs behind lead-lined locked doors or opening our homes, hearts and hearths to our fellow humans-the choice between fear and love, between no life and living large.

As for me, I plan to set up all the usual tricks and some (reasonably healthy) treats. I sincerely hope I won't have to eat them all myself. You see, I'm on this diet and….