October 1, 2020
Just Saying…
By Q.C. Jones
A Halloween Story
October, strangeness lingers in the air. The goblins are crawling, monsters lurk under beds, the late night skies are filled with the shadowy figures of witches against the darkened nighttime sky, and according to a friend who lives down a very dark country road, the woods are filled with the eerie howls of unearthly creatures.
Today’s crop of littles think of smiling pumpkins, dancing skeletons and orangish lights in the neighbor’s yard. The favorite costumes of the younger set smack of commercialism. Things like superheroes, cartoon characters, and other upbeat persona fill the isles of the local costume store. Using the favorite phrase of old people, back in my day, the monsters were real… very real.
Harkening back to those years, the local theatre saved a special spot for Halloween night. It was an all-night episode of the monsters we’ve known and loved. While I can’t remember the exact billing, this event started early in the evening and ran through midnight. The final movies were Them and Dracula. Here’s a quick recap.
Them chronicled the story of giant ants preying on the people of a small New Mexico town. Starring James Whitmore, James Arness (aka Matt Dillon), and a coonskin capless Fess Parker, the movie featured hundreds of garden variety ants which once exposed to radioactivity, turned into truck sized monsters. Through some serious (at least for the time) Hollywood trickery the ants appeared real. And, it turned out they hauled off a couple of young boys to their underground nest with the express purpose of eating them later.
Allow me to recollect the times. We were totally enthralled by the whole “atomic age” thing. Radioactivity still possessed a mystical aura. We all had fallout shelters. Nuclear testing was still on the news. And, one of the parting scenes of the movie had the local professor commenting, “When Man entered the Atomic Age, he opened the door to a new world. What we may eventually find in that new world, nobody can predict.” This statement was designed to be a point to ponder on the way home.
Dracula was the original 1931 classic featuring Bella Lugosi. Mr. Lugosi starred in dozens of movies, 117 to be exact, with a goodly number being “monster-ish” in nature. None carried the undead punching power of his portrayal of the evil Count. The combination of the swarthy vampire looks, and Lugosi’s thick Romanian accent burned a monstrously deep impression on my mind.
Bearing in mind, all this life changing data was spoon fed into my formative mind on the scariest night of the year. Rumored to be the premier night for all things evil, I was of the mindset, if ever there was a night when bad things happen it was October 31st.
All of this sunk in just as my friends and I exited the Capitol Theatre for the long walk home.
My family lived about a mile outside of town. At the ripe age of 11 I had earned the right, maybe privilege, of being able to make the trek when the situation required. Our group exited the movie house just before the town clock struck 12. The chill in the autumn air was pronounced and perhaps enhanced by the chill of sitting through six hours of black and white monsters, gore, and mayhem.
We joked and told ghost stories as we made our way to the edge of town. My friends, who were a couple of years older, augmented the scene with tales of the hidden cemetery just off the main road. As they split from the main group, each of my companions commented about the last bit of my walk, which was very dark and crossed over an old highway bridge; a place where several unfortunate souls had perished in car crashes. Finally, my neighbor and I were the only two remaining and we had a full mile to go.
Reaching the last streetlight, we forged ahead and into the misty darkness. Moonlight finding its way to our path was diminished and disfigured by the branches of overhanging trees. Our pace (and our heartbeats) quickened by the creaking sounds of branches hitting one another. Each call of a woodland owl sounded more like howl of a werewolf (another feature). Brisk walking turned into outright jogging when the shadows resembled giant ants.
Reaching the bridge, the timber on both sides of the roadway was pitch black and alive with otherworldly beings. Jogging moved to a run. A gust of wind somehow produced the sound of a vampire bat flittering just overhead. Olympic sprinters would have had a hard time catching us. My only thought was reaching the yellow light cast by our family’s porch. My heart was near explosion. Surely, this would be my last Halloween and at this point I could care less if my friend David turned into ghoul’s dinner.
We made it and after catching our breath, we stole a couple cloves of my mom’s garlic for our bedroom. Just saying…. Happy Halloween.
