Trunk or treat ruins Halloween, and I’ve come prepared to back that up. As a child of the ‘80s, there was nothing more exciting than Halloween night. I grew up in a mid-size neighborhood in Appalachia full of a community of ghoulish enthusiasts. I’m talking the kind of people who spent months working on decorating their yards and creating immersive experiences for the neighborhood’s kiddos.

It was terrifically spooky and pulled everyone together. I can vividly remember all those Halloween nights, my costumes, my friends, the ghost stories and grinning pumpkins, but more importantly than that, the mystery. There was an air of possibility that doesn’t exist on other nights. Maybe I would see a real ghost? Maybe I could slip into an enchanted forest through the bushes never to be heard from again? The imagination of a child can run wild on Halloween night … and that is important.

There is a distinct lack of wonder at trunk or treats. There is nothing memory-making for the lines of bored children plodding from car to car for their candy allotments. Are some of the trunk decorations cool? Sure. I appreciate the effort put forth by these creative adults, but it’s not the same.

Trick or treating is not about the candy. The candy is merely the irresistible light at the end of the anglerfish’s lure. Trick or treating is about wandering in the dark, being a little scared and hiking around your own transformed neighborhood. What’s the point of candy treasures if you don’t have to work for them by braving the night?

There is another memory I have of Halloween nights as a child that glows warm like the heart of a jack-o’-lantern; coming home knowing I was safe on my journey because my neighbors cared about me.

This is a plea to friends and neighbors to breathe life back into Halloween night. My house will be decorated, and the porch light will be on this Hallow’s Eve. I hope yours will be, too.

Courtney Cullen

Amherst