Ah, the week of Halloween. All Hallow’s Eve. The witching hour. Ghosts and goblins. Trick or treat. Scary stories and scary movies. Jack o’lanterns. Lots of orange and black.

Growing up in Pascagoula, I always enjoyed Halloween. My parents taught my brother and me all the traditions, and made sure we had cool costumes to wear for trick or treating and parties. My dad constructed a life-size witch (we called her Witch Hazel) who resided outside our front door for Halloween week (and scared the devil out of younger trick or treaters on the big night).

I grew up on Oliver Street off of Washington Avenue, so there was a ready-made neighborhood for trick or treating. Each year, Larry Smith, Dick Ingwersen, a few assorted others and I would make the rounds.

One Halloween, a bunch of older street toughs approached us at the corner of Oliver and Washington, roughed us up a bit, and tried to mess with our bags. Being pretty clever and fairly athletic, we extricated ourselves from the scrum, broke away from the hoods and continued our revelry. Little did we know that they had added something to our treats.

When I returned home that night, my mother, as always, had me empty my bag on the dining room table for inspection. She was interested in what I got, sure, but clearly there was a safety factor working that I didn’t realize at the time.

On this particular evening, when I dumped my enormous intake on the table, there it was: right on top of the mound of candies, cookies, apples, and whatnot sat an unwrapped prophylactic. Now, I knew what it was, but no way did I need to admit it, so I said “what is that?”. My mom, Phi Beta Kappa that she was, didn’t miss a beat: “I’m not sure—we’ll ask your father when he comes home”. Classic.

That incident was a little weird, but I had a great run on Halloween in those early years. I even won the costume contest at Beach Elementary a couple of times.

Then, similar to your own recollections I’m sure, our Halloween focuses shifted somewhat. Mischief, including egging and rolling, became prevalent, along with staying out later and running the roads. Eventually, parties and other college age antics came into play. 

After marriage and children, Halloween wonderfully came back full circle. Assisting with costumes and school events, and watching out for the kids as they trick or treated came into play. Younger son Wesley was born on October 28, so we had a lot of Halloween themed birthday parties. Up until just a few years ago, I would hand carve a jack o’ lantern every year (need to get back to that).

So, yeah, I’ve always enjoyed Halloween and the spirit of the holiday. It’s just a fun observance, with a lot of positive history as well, I might add.

Hey, throw on a costume ( I always liked ghosts or skeletons), watch all the local kids having fun, take care of the trick or treaters, share a ghost story or two, watch Psycho or the original Halloween, and enjoy. Whether you’re on Washington Avenue in Pascagoula (where I reside to this day) or wherever you may be scattered across the country, Happy Halloween.

Richard Lucas may be contacted at rblucas17@gmail.com.

Richard Lucas is a native and lifetime resident of Pascagoula. He is a Pascagoula High School graduate and holds a Bachelor of Business Administration degree from the University of Mississippi. In 2017, he retired from Singing River Health System after a 36-year career as Director of Communications. He recently had a ten-year run as a weekly sports columnist for The Mississippi Press. Richard and his wife Mary Jon, a retired school librarian, have been married for 43 years. They have two sons, Cooper and Wesley, and two dogs, Bea and Lily. The Lucases attend First United Methodist Church in Pascagoula. In retirement, Richard remains active in community affairs, serving on boards and committees such as The United Way of Jackson and George Counties, the Pascagoula Strategic Planning Committee, the Jackson County Historical and Genealogical Society, Pascagoula Main Street, and others. Richard Lucas may be contacted at rblucas17@gmail.com.

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