Trick or Treat in a Shaking Time

An earthquake shattered the Bay Area of California in 1989. It showed how important it is to keep community holiday traditions going despite inconveniencing others.

Photo by Aimee Vogelsang on Unsplash

Many small rural towns have been holding community trick or treat events for a long time. It gives children in sparsely populated areas a chance to gather their treats in a more central and safer location. There may be a few brave little goblins … actually more teenaged that teeny … who will show up, pillowcases in hand, at your front door; but buying a bowlful of candy for a couple of kids is hardly worth the price, unless it's your favorite candy and you buy two super-sized bags.

We tried feting the tricker-treaters one year. Leaving the light on to illuminate our extra-long driveway, Hayley and Graham showed up at our door. Hayley, true to form, dressed in a flowing princess costume with tiara. Graham, also true to form, hid beneath a black shroud attached to a white mask with hollow eyes and the vastly elongated mouth that opened nearly to his knees. The then popular "scream" costume, if I remember correctly.

"Hi Graham," I said, pushing the brimming bowl of candy toward them. "Take a handful if you want. Take two. You'll probably be the only ones tonight."

As he rummaged around inthe bowl to score as many minis as he could, a cracking soprano voice emanated from inside that mask.

"How'd you know it was me?"

"Really, Graham? Who else would it be?" I offered the bowl to his sister and she dropped a few candies in her prim little bag.

At that point, my daughter, Val, appeared in her costume and went with them to party for the evening. Their father was waiting in the car at the end of the driveway to take them downtown where everyone from Sacramento to Reno was coming for Halloween mayhem in Truckee.

If it weren't for the deep snow that came early, kids would probably stick to their own exurb neighborhoods. While Truckee, CA spreads quite far from the commercial center, neighborhoods are packed with homes. Kids could go from house to house if the roads were clear of ice.

Oh wait! There were also bears nosing around for easy snacks in preparation for hibernation. So, going into town was definitely the more prudent solution. Bears and trick-or-treaters! What an image!

For kids living in Boulder Creek, CA, the town's houses meander between steep redwood forests. Some homes tuck deep into the darkness of these hollows. Not very easy for kids to navigate at night.

So, families along Hwy 9 as far away as Felton and possibly a few from Santa Cruz swarm into Boulder Creek's block-long shopping area for treats and celebration. Almost everybody knows everybody else. And if they don't, that doesn't matter. The kids enjoy a non-academic costume party at school, then collect a year's supply of sugar bombs in the evening. With parents in tow, it is a safe if not totally sane event for the littles as well as for mom and dad.

I question the "sane" because even the adults wear costumes, some of which are frightful in the extreme. One gentleman stood amongst the crowd, beer in hand, nonchalantly wearing a bloody hatchet lodged in his head. I often wondered what would happen in town after the kiddoes returned home but never hung around to find out.

For a few years, October in the Bay Area became the month of disasters. One year, a wildfire destroyed hundreds of homes in the Oakland Hills. In 1987, the economy crashed. The fallout was so severe,  Jeff came home from work clutching a box of his office stuff, a desperate expression on his face. He'd been laid off.

In 1989, not only did the Soviet Union collapse, the Loma Prieta earthquake in the Bay Area shook everything we owned onto the floor of our rustic mountain cabin. That house was so loosely built that when the aftershocks rumbled through the place, it crackled and roared as if it was being torn apart. Bit by bit, we put everything salvageable away, repaired the shredded roof, and tried not to jump every time the earth twitched. This shaking went on for over a year and shattered many marriages as well as houses.

Val was in first grade that particular October and felt too insecure to return to school when it reopened. It was a decision she regretted after hearing about how the teachers made a special effort to make school fun and safe again. The party continued on Halloween day with more festivities. It was one of those times when nerves had to be calmed and wellbeing needed to be reinforced. And by all means possible, the Halloween trick-or-treating extravaganza would happen downtown that night. It was imperative to keep the tradition intact.

Because a landslide had clogged Hwy 17 linking Santa Cruz and Santa Clara Counties, commuter traffic drove, bumper to bumper, over the winding two-lane highway through Boulder Creek for several weeks until CalTrans could clear Hwy 17. When Val and I drove to the entrance of our neighborhood, a stream of tired, grumpy commuters inched along the road. Even if an ounce of generosity still remained among them to let us in, it would take hours to drive the five miles into town. Sadly, we turned back home for a lonely Halloween. Her father couldn't even join us as he was caught somewhere in all that traffic, too.

Well, what to do what to do? She was understandably bummed. First she missed the first day back at school with her friends. Now she missed Halloween in town. Prospects were bleak for this uncreative mom and all I could hope for was that Mother Friggin' Earth would cooperate and calm the hell down for a few hours.

Once home, we left the lights off except for the garish florescent porch light for Jeff. We had candy. We put a candle in the pumpkin she’d carved that afternoon. We had a ghostly video or two. We bundled up on the couch with the cat and the dog and told stories. Finally Jeff made it home and we made hot chocolate, because he had horror stories of his own to tell. And the newspaper in the morning printed a story about how disgruntled all those commuters were the night before.

"Those stupid people in Boulder Creek had to jam the street with their party so the traffic couldn't get through. Oh, it was just too much to bear. Why couldn't they have postponed it this year?"

Why? Tradition! The reason why traditions exist at all is to maintain stability in a shaky world. And at least for that evening, Mother Earth did calm down.

If you enjoyed this post, please feel free to check out more stories, poems, and essays in the Ring Around the Basin Archive.