My prime trick-or-treating years should have been the late ’70s, but thanks to overblown rumors of poisoned Halloween candy, it was a bust. My brother and I would don our costumes and go to maybe three houses, all people my parents knew. No roaming around knocking on door after door, retrieving the great variety of treats that I imagined other kids were enjoying – after the candy was x-rayed, of course.
Oddly, we were given the run of the neighborhood the rest of the year. We could disappear for a couple of hours at a time without too much worry on my mom’s part. If we were on my grandparents’ farm, we might be out of sight for the entire day, popping in only for meals and snacks.
So I’m not sure how today’s children, protected from every bump and bruise, both to their bodies and self-esteem, are allowed to waltz around neighborhoods (sometimes not even the neighborhoods they live in) and TAKE CANDY FROM STRANGERS.
Seriously. Kids aren’t trusted to walk 25 yards to the bus stop unescorted, but Halloween goes on?
Entirely Adequate 