Some Halloween theorists believe Halloween was the Christianization of pagan Celtic harvest festivals into a day to remember and pray for recently departed souls, still wandering the earth, who have yet to reach heaven. There you have it — yet another pagan festival that was stolen by the Christians and made into a holiday.
My Irish ancestors may have brought some of the Halloween traditions with them when they immigrated. Jack-o’-lanterns are traditionally carried on All Hallows' Eve in order to frighten evil spirits. There is a popular Irish Christian folktale associated with the jack-o’-lantern, in which Jack is said to represent a “soul" who has been denied entry into both heaven and hell:
"On route home after a night's drinking, Jack encounters the Devil and tricks him into climbing a tree. A quick-thinking Jack etches the sign of the cross into the bark, thus trapping the Devil. Jack strikes a bargain that Satan can never claim his soul. After a life of sin, drink, and mendacity, Jack is refused entry to heaven when he dies. Keeping his promise, the Devil refuses to let Jack into hell and throws a live coal straight from the fires of hell at him. It was a cold night, so Jack places the coal in a hollowed-out turnip to stop it from going out, since which time Jack and his lantern have been roaming looking for a place to rest."
What a concept — dressing up like corpses, wearing masks, and carrying lanterns to ward off evil spirits! All Hallows' Eve provided one last chance for the dead to gain vengeance on their enemies before moving to the next world. In order to avoid being recognized by any soul that might be seeking such vengeance, people would don masks or costumes.
And I thought that Halloween was all fun and games. I was just in it for the treats. Halloween got a little creepy for me when pubertal kids a few years older than I was, still went around the neighborhood tricking and treating. It really gets creepy when the full-blown adults, including senior citizens, come to the door. MB was one of those. A few of his antics have been previously reported in UPSTREAM IDAHO. Let’s just say that nothing got MK’s laser-focused attention faster than MB jumping out of our pantry, dressed in an eviscerating rubber suit and dripping horror mask. This delighted our children, who helped MB break into our house each year. It was lucky for MB that all MK could find was a broom to spank him as she chased him out of the house. What a visual. MB's rubber horror suit slowed him down, delaying his escape. The hideous mask did not improve his vision. He ambered down the hall to the garage, laughing so hard that he could hardly breathe. MK -- genuinely agitated, screamed at him all the way, whacking him with the broom until he stumbled into the garage, laughing and gasping for air. Some say that MB lost much of his hearing by shooting guns. I think that it had something to do with the women who screamed at him on Halloween. Speaking of guns, this is yet another reason I don’t let MK know where the guns are located.
My father was in his early 80s when we invited him to our house for Halloween. He was dating my mother-in-law and we knew he would bring her along with him. He also picked up his younger sister, Aunt Afton, to come along for the joyride. Nothing says party time and fun at Halloween like three octagenarians going out on the town. They had no costumes and cooked up a way to put Broulim’s paper grocery bags over their heads with holes cut out for their eyes. Let’s see — three senior citizens walking up my front walk in the dark with paper bags over their heads. What could go wrong? When I saw them coming up the walk, I just couldn’t help myself. I opened the door and called out, “MK, you’ve got to see this! There is a guy out here with two old bags!” Of course, they heard me and by the time they made it up the walk, they were laughing so hard that they could no longer see where they were going. I helped them avoid tripping over the step and helped them into the house for the Halloween party. Over the years since, I went to each of their funerals. I think of them this time of year and hope they have found their way.
Ever vigilant,
RT
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