A Halloween Lesson of Giving Thanks

Last night Halloween was marred by a cold, angry wind reminiscent of the Haddonville, Il of Halloween movie infamy that chased the leaves about randomly with a hidden threat of malice.

The weather held the hordes down who are trucked into our neighborhood of mostly grandparents from other parts of our town. The numbers were still sufficient for me to evacuate to the kids house to attend their Halloween party. You can’t drive down our street on Halloween as the traffic jam looks like downtown Nashville due to the shadow moms in their cars.

In the kids’ neighborhood, the crowds are more manageable and the beggars actually from the neighborhood being serviced. I saw the now teenage grandkids and forty-something kids off to trick or treat and helped man the front door for the infrequent pint sized panhandler who braved the cold. Bless their hearts and wipe their noses. I slunk back home around my usual 9 p.m. and hid upstairs with only the light of the television until the neighborhood emptied.

A typical Halloween for me except I was sorry for the short period the family gatherers were able to stay out due to the weather. I thought back to my own Halloween hunts and hauls. I was usually a hobo as I had holey jeans and a little charcoal for a beard and one of my dad’s hat and the outfit was complete - quick, easy and inexpensive.

Hunt and haul was pretty descriptive of the strategy of the pack of boys I travelled with ranging in ages from six to nine. We departed at dusk and returned around 10 after covering an area roughly five streets by four blocks. We had no parents trailing us in cars, our folks turned us out the door with a hearty “Good Luck” and settled down for some time of their own.

But our parents made sure we had Richard.

Richard Jewett was the older brother of my neighbor buddy Edward. Richard was six or seven years older than us and had already achieved nirvana by attending the sainted destination for us all, Thomas Jefferson High. Go Mustangs! He escorted us and was the Leader of the Pack in every way.

Richard had only one rule: You had to say “Thank You” at every door. If a hunter failed the test, the offender didn’t get to go the next door. Simple crime, simple punishment.

One only had to sit out a door that distributed the only actual candy bars on the block to learn the importance of giving thanks. Our parents had probably told us all a thousand times to say “Thank You” but those nagging lessons just rolled off our backs. Richard was a super peer, still a member of Kids Klub though showing grown up signs of maturity. His lessons sunk in and we learned a magic “Thank You” sometimes resulted in a bigger portion of loot.

His lesson has stuck with me my whole life.

I thought of Richard’s lesson as I felt sorry for the haul our gatherers were able to grab this year due to the weather. The Halloween Pack I ran with, Edward, Terry Olivarri, Claude and Mark Pichot, often had to come home to dump the pillowcase a couple of times during the night. I think the candy is of higher quality these days, more actual fun-sized candy bars, but in our day we made up with sheer volume. We got enough candy to last until spring.

In formulating this post and thinking of Richard, someone who usually comes to mind at Halloween because of his life lesson, I wondered what happened to the boy who was so obviously growing into a man as he served as our Good Shepherd. We moved from San Antonio when I was nine and I lost track. On my way to college at 18 in 1971 I drove through San Antonio and visited with Edward and I think Richard was in the Air Force.

So, in curiosity I googled Richard Jewett and discovered an obituary notice of his passing in January 2013 at age 66. He had graduated from the Valhalla of TJ High and served in the Air Force. He worked at the San Antonio Express-News and was survived by two daughters and my friend Edward and his family. It sounds like he lived the sort of unsung, quality life as a man capable of having a positive effect on others, a gift foreshadowed by his being put in charge of an unruly pack of younger boys when just on the cusp of manhood himself.

All I can say now due to time and circumstance is “Thank You, Richard.” Your lesson so long ago has been a point well taken in my life. I suspect if you were here you would say I need to give thanks to God and others still more often and you would be right. It would be the “big boy” thing to do.

Halloween isn’t just about the candy I guess. You don’t just give thanks at Thanksgiving.