Tim Timmons | Crawfordsville, IN

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December 11, 2017

2/8/2014 3:40:00 PM
Halloween scares up great memories

Growing up in Noblesville, there were few times a year better than Halloween. From fooling around in what used to be "out in the country," to going in town and causing some mischief, Halloween holds lots of great memories.
Perhaps it's the curse of growing older that makes everything seem better than it was? Perhaps it's selective memory. Have I really reached that age where stories begin with, "why, when I was your age . . . "
Yes.
I remember running around the cemetery between the old junior high and the high school. We certainly never did any vandalism, never even thought about that. Just the idea of being in a cemetery . . . at night . . . on Halloween . . . well, it couldn't get much better.
What'd we do out there? Other than act like idiots, not much. I recall chasing and getting chased. One of the more clumsy guys ran full-speed into a tree and ended up with a bloody nose. OK, it might've been a broken nose. OK, it might've been me. And no, mom and dad never were told the full story during the trip to the doctor.
Speaking of not telling, sorry dad, there was one year when our little group decided it would be worthwhile to soap some windows. I have no earthly idea why we thought that was fun. If my wife wants me to wash windows today with a power washer (which is a lot less work) I've got a thousand excuses lined up. But we were kids and soaping windows was our duty. Or so we thought.
So we each swiped a bar of soap from our houses and, flashlights by our side, headed out into the Halloween night. In retrospect, it probably wasn't the greatest idea to have flashlights when you don't want to be seen, but there was that incident with the tree from the year before . . .
We picked out our first target (a teacher who shall remain nameless) and began sneaking toward the house.
A spotlight and one single whoop of a siren stopped us dead in our tracks.
Apparently, we weren't as stealthy as we thought. Might've been the flashlights.
I'm sure the situation would be different today. But back then, the policeman got out of his car and walked toward four little kids who were literally shaking in their shoes. He had to be hiding a smile. He knew all of our dads. He knew what to do.
Our now-pathetic group trudged up the porch and knocked on the door. We explained that we were up to no good, that we were despicable, no-account children and that we were heartily sorry for our monumental lapse in judgment. At the "suggestion" of the fine Noblesville Police officer, we asked if there might not be some way we could atone for our planned dastardly deed.
"Wash the windows."
Huh?
The surprise lasted only a moment before we ever so politely agreed to happily wash some windows.
Yup, those were the days. Weren't they?






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