This time of year is my favorite, because of the two holidays that come in Autumn: Halloween, and Thanksgiving. |
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Martin and I raised our kids in Sausalito, California, the first charm in the necklace of several tiny towns on the north side of the Golden Gate Bridge. There, we lived in three different homes behind Sausalito's seven-block-long resident-serving Caledonia Street. It was quieter than “Old Town,” where, ferry-loads of tourists strolled Bridgeway for its picturesque view of San Francisco. In and around Caledonia Street, you either lived on “the Flats” or “the Hills." The higher homes are on a maze of steep narrow streets that wind through the hills: obviously not ideal for parents with excited children who run house to house to indulge their sugar fixes. Needless to say, young families out trick-or-treating gravitated to the one- or two block-long streets that made up the Flats. |
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Since we lived on the Flats, we knew to stock up on the treats!We were the only ones on our block with little kids, so of course we decorated to the hilt. My favorite: the year we put goblins on the front porch rockers. We posed them as if they were reading the local monthly newspaper that Martin published, The Signal. If you've read his Murder in Marin series, you're aware that the protagonist, Rob Timmons, runs a similar paper called the Sausalito Standard. We then recorded our kids and their best friends doing their best spooky voices, and played their chilling renditions of “Bloody Mary” on a tape player, which we placed behind one of the ghouls. Soon our child-free neighbors, both young and old, realized how much fun we'd had, and also got into the spooky spirit of the season. |
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A few blocks over, the local cartoonist for the San Francisco Chronicle, Phil Frank, put a coffin in his garage. He'd dress in full Dracula mode. As folks wandered through it, he'd rise up. Shrill screams could be a block away. |
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Either Martin or I stayed at home to give out the candy while the other went off with the kids. But the parent who was out and about periodically stopped in to see if the other was running low on sweets. This was inevitably the case, considering the hordes of kids that came onto our porch. Because we hated for anyone to leave empty-handed, we'd cajole our two tricksters to give up any candy they didn't like for the giveaway stash. Their decisions were akin to my son and his friends trading baseball cards. No matter how little candy we had, I never refused a request from any costume-less teens who came to the door. I knew they were nostalgic for the days when they dress up because, heck, I was too! |
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1761 Vallejo Street, #204
San Francisco, CA 94123, United States |
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