      Halloween throughout the ages has been a time for both celebration and superstition, candy and costumes, and revelry and high jinxes. But for me it has been a time that reminds me of some Halloween fun that almost went awry.
           It was the fall of my first teaching assignment and my first year of living in the community which would become my home for the next 44 years. Some of my new friends and colleagues felt we should venture out for some adult fun and treats, but it was paramount that no one should recognize us. After all, we were in a small community and word would quickly spread that the teachers were out having fun when they should be home planning lessons.
           To avoid detection we wore nylon stockings pulled over our heads (which meant I couldn't wear my glasses, which was an unfortunate miscalculation on my part). We also cut a small hole for our mouths, not to be able to speak (that might reveal our identities), but to sip a requested treat. Our sign "Drinks or tricks" said it all!
           Off we ventured on foot to visit some homes where we felt the inhabitants might be receptive to our request. After an hour or so of good-natured fun, we were ready to call it a night. Little did we know that the real excitement was just about to begin.
           As we crossed a street, a vehicle's headlights suddenly snapped on, catching us all by surprise. This was followed by a flashing red light. It was the local constabulary! Everyone scattered as we still wanted to avoid being identified.
           Unfamiliar with my surroundings and unable to see without my glasses, I became separated from the group and had no idea which direction to proceed. Somewhere off in the distance the screech of a wire fence being stretched and then snapped by the stampeding force of panicked revellers rang through the night air.
           Meanwhile I headed for the first haven I spied, an old garden shed. I scrambled to the far side where I planted myself with my back against the wall, panting like some convicted criminal on the run from the law. My fear escalated when a spotlight began to erratically beam across the yard searching for culprits. I almost fainted when a deep male voice boomed through a megaphone, "Come on out! We know you're out there and we have you surrounded!"
           As fearful as I was, I wasn't about to give up, so I didn't move, I didn't flinch, and I scarcely dared to breathe. I was not about to be discovered and humiliated, even though I had done nothing wrong.
           After what seemed to be an eternity, the local "town cop and his sidekicks" got tired of waiting and left, and my husband and our friends were able to pick me up.
           The next morning at coffee row, the story circulated that the local law enforcement had successfully chased some hooligans from a neighbouring town out of our community before they could do some nasty tricks.
           For many years after that night, our group chuckled about our escape from the law and kept our secret. But now the rest of you know what really happened one Halloween night in a sleepy little Saskatchewan village.
