Some people say that Halloween is alive and strong. But while retail stores push costumes, candy and decorations on their seasonal displays, and while night clubs and other corporate establishments promote Halloween events, some people say that the true spirit of Halloween is almost, well, dead.
In the old days, when people actually knew their neighbors, costumed kids would roam the streets in groups with an older sibling or an adult and knock on doors. The idea was that good-humored adults would give out candy in exchange for a costume parade of cute kids (the treat) and perhaps a chance to spook them out when they come to the front door (the trick). Today, however, many neighborhoods and communities have become less involved. The fine art of trick or treating is slowly becoming a dying tradition.
"Haunted" neighbors' houses are replaced by brightly lit shopping malls. Retail employees, who would undoubtedly rather be handing out goods from their homes with some friends and a few drinks, dump out packaged candy to kids in long lines. Homes are closed for private parties; churches and other community organizations host festivals to veer kids away from the streets; and some residents, worried about of being left with massive bags of tooth-decaying candy, just give up and hang signs on their door that read, "No candy here."
Fortunately, there are still neighborhoods where the spirit of door-to-door trick or treating is very much alive. JR Lentini lives in a neighborhood near Washington, D.C. Each year, he carefully considers the trick-or-treaters on Halloween and goes all out with the treats.
"I make a point of having the best damn candy on the block: generally a dozen or so full-sized bars, a 'handful rule' for the poorly named 'fun-size' bars and usually a couple of gourmet chocolates for the adults tagging along," Lentini said.
In the old days, when people actually knew their neighbors, costumed kids would roam the streets in groups with an older sibling or an adult and knock on doors. The idea was that good-humored adults would give out candy in exchange for a costume parade of cute kids (the treat) and perhaps a chance to spook them out when they come to the front door (the trick). Today, however, many neighborhoods and communities have become less involved. The fine art of trick or treating is slowly becoming a dying tradition.
"Haunted" neighbors' houses are replaced by brightly lit shopping malls. Retail employees, who would undoubtedly rather be handing out goods from their homes with some friends and a few drinks, dump out packaged candy to kids in long lines. Homes are closed for private parties; churches and other community organizations host festivals to veer kids away from the streets; and some residents, worried about of being left with massive bags of tooth-decaying candy, just give up and hang signs on their door that read, "No candy here."
Fortunately, there are still neighborhoods where the spirit of door-to-door trick or treating is very much alive. JR Lentini lives in a neighborhood near Washington, D.C. Each year, he carefully considers the trick-or-treaters on Halloween and goes all out with the treats.
"I make a point of having the best damn candy on the block: generally a dozen or so full-sized bars, a 'handful rule' for the poorly named 'fun-size' bars and usually a couple of gourmet chocolates for the adults tagging along," Lentini said.




