The Old School Ghost

Halloween is upon us with its goblins, zombies, candy, and lines of trick-or-treaters.  It is easily one of the best days of the year to be a boy!  When else can you tease girls with fake spiders, jump out of small spaces to startle your teacher, or hold stuff oozing fake blood without getting in trouble?  Without a doubt it would be Virgil Creech’s favorite holiday.

All week, I’ve been pondering the question; what costume would Virgil choose?  This led me to a bit of research and I found out that children in the United States didn’t go door to door begging for candy until the 1940’s.  Bummer for Virge.  But being fictional, we can lift our friend out of the 20’s and bring him along with us for fun.

Halloween isn’t the same now as it was for me.  At our house these days, we get a sporadic knock on the door and open it to a group of children with protective moms and dads holding flashlights close behind them.  The kids mostly have store-bought, plastic costumes that can’t be near an open flame and more often than not, I have to coax them into saying “trick or treat.”  Typically, they just stand their holding their plastic pumpkins like I am some great candy genie.  I know, I know, the times are not the same and safety concerns are vastly different today.  Nonetheless, it is rather disappointing.

In the 70’s, we made costumes out of our parents old clothes, took the neighborhood by storm with our pillow cases, and were fully prepared to play a trick on the guy who gave out coupons.  There were so many kids roaming the streets that we had to wait our turn in front of doors where the families were giving out full candy bars.  We held those houses in high regard year-round and sneered for months whenever we passed a house whose lights had been turned off on October 31st.  That poor family might have been out of town or sick in the hospital, but the lack of candy was quite an insult to the snubbed neighborhood kids.

Here’s a picture of me as a youngster.me
I was a very sad ghost that year because for some reason, I refused to put anything over my face. Not so scary with my chubby cheeks.  My parents improvised and used my grandfather’s Navy hat for me to have something white on my head.

That leads me to the conclusion that Virgil would be an old-school sheet ghost.  He would stay out long enough to get plenty of candy, but his main concern would be scaring the kids all over town.  He’d have his tricks all lined up in advance and any props he needed pre-set.  The terror he caused would be eclipsed only by his laughter after the trick was played.  It would be a grand night in Portsong for the youngest Creech.

sheetghost

Yes, my friend Virgil would love Halloween!

We here in Portsong wish you a happy and safe evening…Mwahaha!

The County Fair

Anyone who ever lived in a small town knows the joy that the annual county fair brings.  People look forward to its coming for months, if only to break up the mundane.  Bright lights, whirring rides, colorful people, smells (both good and bad), objects of little value but great desire – all of these things and more invade a common town and for just a little while, make it extraordinary.  So it has always been in Portsong when the Buxley County Fair is held on a hallowed patch of ground called Hargit’s Field.  No one quite knows how the fair was wrestled away from the larger cities nearby.  But with the exception of the war years, it has always been held in our little town.

Much of the history of the fair has been chronicled for posterity.  Stories of the wild rides, blue ribbon contests, and the human oddities that have been witnessed in Hargit’s Field have become legendary.  But to capture the folksy flavor of the true county fair, I take you back to the fair of 1922 as archived in the September 8th edition of the Portsong Guardian.  I hope you enjoy the ride.

Photo Jul 20, 1 14 20 PM

Controversy Reigns as Miss Corrine’s Cobbler Does Not

In what many have referred to as the biggest surprise since the hailstorm of 1897, Miss Corrine Deaton failed to win her eleventh straight blue ribbon in the Pie Contest.  She took home the red as runner up with her famous Peach Dream Cobbler.  Coming in first was newcomer Hazel Gruber with her delicious Blackberry Delight.  Congratulations to Mrs. Gruber, who just moved to our fair city all the way from Warblers Ridge.

The white ribbon was awarded to Mrs. Myrna Culpepper, who ended the day nearly as bitter as a slice of her rhubarb pie.  After finishing second to Miss Corrine for a decade, she was quoted as saying, “serves her right – everyone knows a cobbler isn’t a pie anyway!”

On to the livestock events where in less dramatic fashion, Sherman Peas won the Hog Calling Contest by a unanimous decision.  After hearing his grunts and chortles, every judge was inclined to go his way.

For the little ones, the goat-roping competition was head-butting good time until Wilmur Clegg’s billie got loose on the midway shutting down the rides for twenty minutes.  Unfortunately, Smitty Robbins girl, little Esther, was at the apex of the Ferris wheel when it stopped and her weak stomach became a serious problem for those below.

All in all, this year’s fair was a wonderful event and we here at The Guardian hope the next three hundred and fifty-nine days fly by.