Happy Halloween, Week 27 in the Time of Transition

The first time I wore a mask I was three years old and was aware of the tiny holes for my nostrils, and the slit for my mouth. Not easy breathing, but so exciting to this little girl. I was a cat, Felix the Cat, to be precise. My one piece, highly-flammable costume had a small tie in the back of the black and white jumpsuit. I held a small paper bag for my trick or treat goodies next to my sister Sharyn and my dad who came home from work early to escort us up and down our New Jersey suburban block.

I loved Halloween. Getting dressed up and pretending to be someone or something else, was good with me. Plus, it was the one time in the year in which I had my own candy. In those days, the early 60s, candy cigarettes and dots on paper were my favorites, with Hershey kisses a close second.

I will not be dressing up this Halloween. Instead, I will watch children donning costumes, purchased and home-made, in strollers and in small groups as they accept the offerings from the businesses on the Avenues. I…