Years ago, when I lived in Camelot on the other side of Mannheim Rd, I set up a table in my garage on Halloween and served hot dogs to the kids in the neighborhood. The kids were actually delighted to get a hotdog and the parents were happy that their child ate something of substance to go along with all the candy.
Everyone knew the guy who made hot dogs in his garage from the White Sox commercial that aired on WGN the previous summer. So, we had a pretty good crowd all afternoon waiting for hot dogs on the neighborhood trick or treat route. The Shepkids were still young, they loved having everyone gathering in their garage dressed up for Halloweenie.
The sunset came quickly and the crowd began to disperse. My son George stuck around to help me clean up the garage and put things away. We didn't think we'd have any more trick or treaters that night, but before we lowered the garage door we saw one more coming our way.
It was a father who looked like he had a long day at work and hurried home to take his daughter trick or treating before the night was through. The little girl was about four years old and she was dressed like a puppy. She told me that she picked out her costume because it looked like the puppy that she wanted to have some day. Her father, with a slight hint of hopefulness in his voice promised her that someday she would get that puppy. He looked exhausted and his clothing hung loosely from his thin body. To me he looked down and out, but was putting out a huge effort to make trick or treating more special for his daughter.
I told the dad that I had been cooking hotdogs all afternoon for the neighborhood kids. I asked him if he wanted a couple for him and his daughter. He noticed that everything was packed away and didn’t want us to bother.
George told him that I made the best hotdogs and I told him to hold on. We invited the daddy and daughter into the garage. George gave the little girl a juice box and I offered dad a bottle of Old Style. The depleted dad told me that he had just gone through a divorce and he was happy that his ex-wife let him take their daughter out for Halloween.
My wife popped her head out to see why George and I hadn’t finished closing shop yet. I told her we had one more guest and we would come in shortly.
I’m glad we waited around for that last Halloween visit. I didn’t know at the time that this guy was foreshadowing my future. All I know is we helped a distraught man make Halloween better for him and his little girl.
Tonight, I stood out on the balcony waiting for one more trick or treater before the sun packed it in for the night. I’m glad I waited around for that last Halloween visit. It wasn’t from a divorced dad and his daughter. It was a quick glimpse of the sun hitting the clouds just right. Just right to remind me how beautiful the world is and how we are all here to make it Mo Betta' for each other.
Happy Halloween
