a cara......driving home this evening from the western suburbs of toronto iwas reminded by my radio station am 740 that al jolson died october 20/1950.....as i took in the information i remember very well where i first heard the news....i heard it on radio eireann at lunch time that day....after school myself and some of my friends and i were walking past willy munnelys discussing jolson and his death......as we approached j b morans corner we couldnt help but notice the large assortment of nuts ...apples and thompson bracks on peter devers shop window......peter dever in those days was what they called a high class grocery and provision merchant.....his window was always a neon of beauty ......the window always carefully tailored for each festive occasion....his window displayed ....walnuts....hazel nuts....brazilian nuts....and peanuts .....these specialties were for us mouth watering tease....because we could not afford to buy these .......my friends and i talked of haloween.......and made plans to get our treats fresh from the source.....we arranged to go to langstons hill ....a nice walk out the line......the second train signal from the station......out here was the scrubs......a" jungle" of hazel nut trees .....speckled with trees laden in red berries.....we were cautioned many times about not eating the berries......although they looked very enviting....plump and juicy......so off we set for our visit to the scrubs.....we had our school bags or canvas bags......as we approached the hill ...our hearts began to well up in enthusiasm and excitement.....we made our entry into the ...'jungle"....and began to pluck the nuts .......we pulled and plucked....every now and again ...putting one between our molars and a crunch.......then we removed the kernel and had a chew.....as we picked and plucked we always tried to get nuts whose shell was hard and cured....not soft and unripe.......when ever we found a"siamese nut" two nuts fused together.....we sensed good luck ....and fortune....october is usually a damp dreary month....and so out in this bush we were usually a little scared.......often a soft....damp....mist ...would engulf the bush...and track.......spreading in from saleen lake....creating an atmoshere of eeriness.....as if it was in keeping of the season.....when our bags were stuffed we usually climbed ...langstons.....and took in the sights.....from this lofty peak.....in the not too far distance we could see the green dome of the 'asylum"...its name in those days....we looked out towards isalndaedy.....we looked over the familiar sights......the protestant church......saleen lake.....and the local and country homes.....sending streams of winding smoke to the grey umbrellad skies......and then we headed home with our booty........these nuts had to be culled and prepared for the big night......our next mission was to gather a stash of apples......so a visit to johnny mcnicholas's orchard ...or burkes in maryland......we would again set out....myself peter murray ....perty whittaker...and a few others to raid the orchards.....again with bags at the ready.....we knew the sweet apples....and the cookers.......and we gathered a collection of both ....after all ...home made apple pie was .....always a constant on mchale road.....the odd farmer often brought bags of apples into mchale road to sell....and we waited for their arrival.....with a northlight oooor macs smile blade.....like surgeons we made ....clean incisions in the bags....and ...loaded up in expelled fruit.......thomson bracks were always a treat.....but lavelles ...gavins ....goldens made beautiful bracks.....on halloween night we hung a big .....juicy ...cooking apple from the kitchen ceiling.....my parents made us go in the hall whilst they hid a penny or two in the apple......we were then told to take a bite ....no using hands....and whoever was lucky enough to get the copper ...kept it.....then money was hid in various places ....and we searched until it was found......candles were lit.....and often we listened to spooky stories......there was great joy....and the evening meal was usually....filled with little affordable treats....home made bread...and barn brack.....ther was no school the next day and that usually enhanced the excitement.......as i got older ....i looked forward to some of the other ...halloween games...we played...like....knocking on doors... or taking the gates off the railings ...on mchale road...way back then ....times were simpler.....we created our own fun.....no ghosts or goblins.....going from door to door .....looking for treats....or playing tricks......no far reaching costumes....the north american commercialism...and exploitation....had not reached our shores......the only ghost we saw .....was perhaps the sudden shadow of someone creeping up on us....or the eerines of a walk by the cemetery.....i remember such night ....going for a walk with johnny corcoran....by the cemetery.....listening to some spooky tale of johnny's........the hair stood on the back of my neckas eerie shadows danced off ....headstones....of course johnny was quite a racconteur....and his stories were laced in humour..and haunt......he could make you feel as you were about to meet the addams family......in days gone by it wouldnt be folk ...having a drinkfest you'd meet along the paths of the cemetery....the only noice ...was the sound of howling dogs......their cries reverborating across the waters of the town river.....busts of light breaking through the sullen skies......its dark clouds......creating ...a kaleidescopic chilly eeriness........was that the sound of the banshee i heard.........its scary shrill....scream haunting the night sky......

....here in toronto.....homes are are decorated with withches.....ghosts....headstones.....and much more.....pumpkins....and lanterns decorate front porches........stores are stacked with bulk chocolate and candy........costumes.....and masks......but for me a walk out to langstons hill and its ....scrubs....a look across saleen lake.....with the night light reflecting the dark ripple of the water.....and the october mist......spreading its eerie web...on tree and bush branches......the call of the loons......and a howling dog......is what halloween inspired.......a visit to the graveyard on all souls day......now where would you be goin' without a bell on your bike.....

..........and as i write.....the floor lurched under my feet.....the candle on my desk flickered....and dimmed......chills ...goose bumped my flesh......shadows seemed to dance across my room......and i hear a crying voice from afar......calling my name.....could these be the ghosts of past......or ......

.......slan....

agus.......

..................tig go bog e......happy halloween........