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(The accompanying photo is gratuitous cuteness of my grandson and his buddy in Munchkin Costumes and has nothing to do with the blog.)
Tonight my husband and I will join another couple in Ashland, Virginia where they close the roads next to the Railroad Tracks for Trick or Treaters. On either side of the tracks are lovely old homes with lots of scary stories attached to them. Like the signal man who was killed on the job and now sits (all bloody and gross) on a porch waving his lamp. I think that one is true.

I suspect there are some millennials in Colorado who still tell the tale of the haunted limousine. It all started when our neighbors down the street started a limo company. Well one of those limos had a sun roof. My husband and the other guy decided it would be hilarious to park the limo in a dark driveway, get all ghouly, and then pop out of the top when kids came up the driveway. The Limo Massacre got the desired results and then some. One kid did a backward somersault down the driveway, Skittles and mini Snickers flying every which-a-way. Another wet her costume. This was all going on while me and the wife of the other guy took our kids around the neighborhood. As the evening progressed we started to hear, “Hey man, don’t go near the limo!”

Our 5-little trick or treaters ranged in age from 2 to 7. The older three ran ahead of us and stopped at houses with an amazing degree of efficiency coupled with the mandatory manners so as not to get yanked home.

The two-year old, my son, was quite tall for his age and speech delayed because of ear troubles. The three-year-old was abnormally small for her age and very precocious. She was dressed as Elmo, he was dressed as a two-year-old on a cold Colorado night. The two young ones would walk up to the houses together. The little girl would say, just as cute as you please, “Happy Halloween! Trick or Treat, I’m Elmo!” My son would say, “Gah!” The other mom almost wet her costume after a couple of houses with those two. I happen to know she needed a good laugh after eating an entire bag of Smarties in an unusual loss of self control.

Besides the Halloween when I was 12 and Mike Uzzo cracked an egg over my head, this is the Halloween that will remain etched on my memory.

For the record, the guys only performed the Limo Massacre once. But folks in Longmont, Colorado say those ghouls still appear every year on Halloween and no one knows who they are. Hey man, don’t go near the Limo!

Thank you for visiting.


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