Halloween was always a landmark growing up. First of all, it was the day after my sister’s birthday. I always remembered that her birthday was right before Halloween. Like many kids in St. Thomas, I had several Halloween goals:
1) Get as much candy as possible via trick-or-treating (Up until age 8).
2) Not to be caught dead trick-or-treating (Age 9 and up. Trick-or-treating were for “kids”.)
3) Wear a rocking superhero costume (Up until age 8).
4) Not be caught dead in a Halloween costume of any kind (Age 9 and up. Costumes were for “kids.”)
5) Avoid getting hit with an inedible island fruit called “gobbie.” As I was walking home from school one Halloween, gobbie pieces started falling from a high rise windows and landing on my shirt. I ran for my life.
4) Avoid getting hit with a rotten egg. Some kids would bury eggs in the ground weeks in advance. I never got hit with one, but I did witness my school bus getting pounded.
5) Avoid getting hit with water balloons. I had a close call in 11th grade. During English class, a water balloon came flying out of nowhere. It almost landed in my vacinity.
6) Stay away from Halloween wars. Every Halloween night, some of the guys in our neighborhood would gather for water balloon fights. It was a yearly ritual, even up until my senior year. To be honest, the thought of throwing and getting hit with a water balloon was quite amusing. It wasn’t the water balloons that kept me away. Some of the guys would sneak rotten eggs and gobbies into the battle as an element of surprise. Yet, it wasn’t considered cheating because there were no rules. Anything could come flying out of someone’s hand. That, my friend, was my major concern. Not to mention, getting blasted with eggs and gobbie was never part of my life mission. My brother was a regular. I chose to stay home.
