Fall was always a pleasant time on the farm. The crops were mostly out of the fields except maybe for digging up the sugar beets. The weather was still fairly warm with chilly evenings and cooler daytime temperatures. Colorado didn’t have much in the way of color of autumn leaves so we didn’t make much a big deal about it like they do back east in New England with the deep rusty, red and dark oranges colors. We had the gold of Aspen trees in the fall in the mountains against the dark green of the evergreens. When I was a kid our family didn’t go out of our way to go to look at the Aspen leaves. I didn’t experience that splash of color of the mountain Aspen until I was married. We would take weekend rides up through Boreas Pass by Breckenridge and see the canopy of bright yellow gold over the mountain roads.
Children were back to school and settling into the drills and tattered school books passed down from children who used them the year before. Mostly little girls wore dresses of calico and gingham. The boys wore jeans or coveralls and plaid cotton or flannel shirts. The jeans were just plain old jeans. Nothing designer or special about these jeans. They might have been Levis or Wranglers, but the brands didn’t mean much at that time. They were just jeans that boys wore to school and to help with the chores around the farm.
Once a year we celebrated Halloween. On that day most everyone came to school in a costume. We had assigned desks so you could guess who the kids were even though they were dressed head-to-toe in odd costumes. One year I remember one of the Howard boys – probably Joe – changed seats with a couple of his 8th grade classmates to fool us younger kids in 5th grade. Joe and his friends had concocted homemade Halloween costumes that covered them so well we couldn’t guess who they were. Joe in particular had put on his Mom’s clothes stuffed socks for the boobs and added one of those flowered scarves on his head that he tied with a knot at his forehead. I think I went all day and I never did figure out who he was. I was pretty naive about that kind of stuff. We all made our costumes out of things we found at home. Scarecrows had real straw coming out of coveralls and witches were wrapped in black cloth with homemade pointed witch hats.
One year the Goldsmiths put on a haunted house in their basement. I was probably ten or so at the time. Even though I tried to find out from my friend Lois what her brother Bob was up to with the haunted house I never did find out the gory details until we actually went through the basement. It was dark and scary as we walked down the stairs. The staircase was open so as you walked someone grabbed at your ankles from behind to put your emotions through the wringer. Sheets were put up in a maze. You followed a dark path feeling eyeballs (peeled grapes), brains (cooked spaghetti) and other such concoctions that scared young children. Black cats ran across our path screeching and swishing their tails at our legs. They played a record on their turn table that had eerie sounds along with their own sounds effects of screening and pretend murders taking place.
Once we were sufficiently scared from the basement offerings we went back upstairs for some games. These were the days when you actually dunked your head in a tub of water to retrieve an apple. Harder than it sounds. Apples were also strung on a string from the garage ceiling that you had to grab a healthy bite. The best way was to partner with someone so the apple would stay still. There were popcorn balls made with fresh candied syrup and hot cider to warm your spirits.
Stan and I have tried for recreate that type of Halloween atmosphere with our kids over the years but nothing comes close to the Goldsmith party. Our kids mostly went trick or treating and brought home bags of candy that we checked to make sure no one had slipped in any razor blades in the apples and that all candy was wrapped in its original wrapper. This is a crazy tradition to send your kids out in their costumes to beg for candy on a chilly night. They always had more candy then an army could eat. It made them both just on one big sugar high for weeks while they ate through their stash.
The schools let our little kids dress in Halloween costumes (purchased of course) and served cupcakes or decorated cookies made by some of the mothers. Stober Elementary School had pumpkin decorating contests while John was going there. He won one year with a tall skinny pumpkin that we painted like a clown with a hat and a pom-pom on top. Another year he found a really small pumpkin that he decorated and won the smallest pumpkin contest. At the time little pumpkins were hard to find. Today you can find baskets of them at any local grocery.
We always tried to carve a pumpkin or two when I grew up and then each year as our kids grew up. They were just the ordinary Jack-o-Lantern with eyes, nose and mouth and a candle to light it all up. Now pumpkin carving has become a real art that includes scraping away the hard skin and sculpting interesting faces.
One year when Jamie was about three months old I found a really big pumpkin, cleaned it out and carved the face. I put her in it for a photo. Hope I can find that photo some day. Young mothers. We are kind of silly sometimes.