Four-thirty in the afternoon, partly sunny and chilly in Roswell, Georgia, Peter and I are having a cozy day at home catching up on chores. Soon the sun will go down and the neighborhood children will begin ringing our doorbell. One of us will give out candy and the other no doubt will wander to the door as well, eager to see the little ones dressed in their costumes.
Halloween brings happy memories of our Park Slope, Brooklyn, NY childhoods to both of us. My mother always ordered candy apples from Newman’s on Seventh Avenue – everybody’s favorite, and his mother had his pals in each year to dunk for apples. I was the only girl our age on the block, so the guys – Peter, Johnny Garside, Tommy Gibbons, Billy Hines, and Johnny Morin – would come by and pick me up so that I could go with them. I can still hear their voices calling to my mother from the vestibule to the top of the stairs on the second floor: “Don’t worry Mrs. G, we’ll take good care of her!” And off I’d go for a night of fun and antics with the guys. Here’s a picture I found recently of Peter from back in those days – a young adolescent, rugged athlete, playing with a top! And to think that now we have a grandson nearly that age…so much to be thankful for.