A Halloween Good Guy
By Diana Braskich
Growing up, I did not take Halloween lightly. It was not a minor occasion. It was an event, and one to be celebrated with gusto.
I recall my childhood home as extravagantly decorated, inside and out, a lavish display unmatched anywhere in the neighborhood. The family pictures, however, prove that memory exaggerates, and what is legendary in my mind was more commonplace in reality.
Our decorations may have been simple, but they were fun. I distinctly remember, when I was quite small, having an entire collection of fuzzy black kittens plastered across my bedroom closet. The cats were depicted wearing witches’ hats and cavorting with friendly pumpkins, perfect for a small girl’s bedroom. They were made of cardboard, but the kittens’ fur was textured somehow and felt like velvet.
We had witch- and ghost-shaped candles displayed in our living room, and a spooky cardboard haunted house that somehow lasted more than a decade before collapsing upon itself. We had giant scarecrow window hangings as well, with posable arms and legs. At least once a season these would come crashing down unexpectedly, terrifying our poor cat right out of the room.
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