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Halloween
The Irish brought the tradition of the Jack O'Lantern to America. But, the original Jack O'Lantern was not a pumpkin.The Jack O'Lantern legend goes back hundreds of years in Irish History. As the story goes, Stingy Jack was a miserable, old drunk who liked to play tricks on everyone: family, friends, his mother and even the Devil himself. One day, he tricked the Devil into climbing up an apple tree. Once the Devil climbed up the apple tree, Stingy Jack hurriedly placed crosses around the trunk of the tree. The Devil was then unable to get down the tree. Stingy Jack made the Devil promise him not to take his soul when he died. Once the devil promised not to take his soul, Stingy Jack removed the crosses and let the Devil down.
Many years later, when Jack finally died, he went to the pearly gates of Heaven and was told by Saint Peter that he was too mean and too cruel and had led a miserable and worthless life on earth. He was not allowed to enter heaven. He then went down to Hell and the Devil. The Devil kept his promise and would not allow him to enter Hell. Now Jack was scared and had nowhere to go but to wander about forever in the darkness between heaven and hell. He asked the Devil how he could leave as there was no light. The Devil tossed him an ember from the flames of Hell to help him light his way. Jack placed the ember in a hollowed out Turnip, one of his favorite foods which he always carried around with him whenever he could steal one. For that day onward, Stingy Jack roamed the earth without a resting place, lighting his way as he went with his "Jack O'Lantern".
On all Hallow's eve, the Irish hollowed out Turnips, rutabagas, gourds, potatoes and beets. They placed a light in them to ward off evil spirits and keep Stingy Jack away. These were the original Jack O'Lanterns. In the 1800's a couple of waves of Irish immigrants came to America. The Irish immigrants quickly discovered that Pumpkins were bigger and easier to carve out. So they used pumpkins for Jack O'Lanterns.
Late one night, a young man was driving home along a dark country road. It was a Saturday night and it was raining. As he rounded a long curve, his headlights lit up a young woman standing at the side of the road. She was wearing a white dress and was all wet from the rain. He thought he knew what had happened: The girl had quarreled with her date and had chosen to walk home rather than stay with the guy. The young man skidded to a stop before the young woman could even raised her hand to thumb a ride.
He leaned over and opened the door for her to get in.
She slid into the seat and shut the door. With a smile she said, "Would you take me home? I just live a mile down the road."
That was when he noticed how pretty she was. He almost couldn't think of anything to say, she was so pretty. He said, "Sure."
He took off his letter jacket and offered it to her. She leaned forward and draped it around her shoulders. It was too crowded in the front seat for her to put her arms into the sleeves.
The boy dropped the car into gear, and he still hadn't thought of anything to say when they passes the church and the graveyard and came to a two story house.
"This is my house," she said.
They stopped, and he got out and walked her to the door. They stood looking at each other for a moment and before he could think of a way to ask her for a kiss, she leaned over and kissed him. He was so surprised that she had opened the screen door, opened the front door, and gone inside the house before he could speak. He realized that she was still wearing his letter jacket and for a moment he thought about knocking on the door. But the house was dark, her parents were probably asleep, and she might get into trouble for getting in so late if he woke them.
Besides, the jacket gave him the perfect excuse to come see her again.
Sunday morning, about time for church, he came back to the house and knocked on the door. A tired, sad-looking woman answered. He asked if he could talk to the ladies daughter.
"My daughter is dead," said the woman. "She died one year ago last night in a car wreck one mile down the road or so at the long curve."
"That's not possible!" said the man. "I gave her a ride home last night!"
"If you don't believe me," said the woman, "go look for yourself. She's buried in the graveyard there in the third row."
The young man walked into the cemetery. In the third row of headstones, he found what he was looking for.
A pink marble headstone was inscribed with the name Laurie, and over the rounded corners of the stone was his letter jacket.
The girl driving the old blue sedan was a senior at the high school. She lived on a farm about eight miles away and used the car to drive back and forth.
She had driven into town that night to see a basketball game. Now she was on her way home. As she pulled away from the school, she noticed a red pick-up truck follow her out of the parking lot. A few minutes later the truck was still behind her.
"I guess we're going in the same direction," she thought.
She began to watch the truck in the mirror. When she changed her speed, the driver of the truck changed his speed. When she passed a car, so did he.
Then he turned on his high beams, flooding her car with light. He left them on for almost a minute. "He probably wants to pass me," she thought. But she was becoming uneasy.
Usually she drove over a back road. Not too many people went that way. But when she turned onto the road, so did the truck.
"I've got to get away from him," she thought, and she began to drive faster. The he turned his high beams on again. After a minute, he turned them off. Then he turned then on again and off again.
She drove even faster, but the truck driver stayed right on behind her. The he turned his high beams on again. Once more her car was ablaze with light. "What is he doing?" she wondered. "What does he want?" Then he turned them off again. But a minute later he had them on again, and he left them on.
At last she pulled into her driveway, and the truck pulled in right behind her. She jumped from the car and ran to the house.
"Call the Police!" she screamed at her father.
Out in the driveway she could see the driver of the truck. He had a gun in his hand. When the police arrived, they started to arrest him, be he pointed to the girl's car. "You don't want me, " he said. "You want him."
Crouched behind the driver's seat, there was a man with a knife.
As the driver of the truck explained it, the man slipped into the girl's car just before she left the school. He saw it happen, but there was no way he could stop it. He thought about getting the police, but he was afraid to leave her. So he followed her.
Each time the man in the back seat reached up to overpower her, the driver of the truck turned on his high beams. The man dropped down, afraid that someone might see him.
Halloween History
For thousands of years people have been celebrating different holidays and festivals at the end of October. The Celts celebrated it as Samhain (pronounced "sow-in", with "sow" rhyming with cow). The Irish English dictionary published by the Irish Texts Society defines the word as follows:
"Samhain, All Hallowtide, the feast of the dead in Pagan and Christian times, signalizing the close of harvest and the initiation of the winter season, lasting till May, during which troops (esp. the Fiann) were quartered. Faeries were imagined as particularly active at this season. From it the half year is reckoned. also called Feile Moingfinne (Snow Goddess).The Scottish Gaelis Dictionary defines it as "Hallowtide. The Feast of All Soula. Sam + Fuin = end of summer." Contrary to the information published by many organizations, there is no archaeological or literary evidence to indicate that Samhain was a deity. The Celtic Gods of the dead were Gwynn ap Nudd for the British, and Arawn for the Welsh. The Irish did not have a "lord of death" as such.
The Celts believed that every year on the last day of October, the souls of the dead visited the earth.
When the Romans conquered the Celts in the first century A.D., they added parts of their festivals, Feralia and Pomona to the tradition. Feralia was a festival to honor the dead and Pomona was a harvest festival named after the goddess of fruit (apples) and trees.
Around the eigth century, the Christian church made November 1 All Saints' Day to honor all of the saints that didn't have a special day of their own. Over the years these festivals combined, the mass held on All Saints' Day was called Allhallowmas (the mass of all Hallows - saintly people). The night before was known as All Hallows Eve. Eventually this name became Halloween.
 In the 1800s, as a lot of people emigrated to the U.S., the holidays and traditions of different cultures merged. Halloween was not always a happy time. October 31, or the night before took on other names. Some called it Devil's or Hell night, to others it was mischief night. Here in Vermont, the night before is called cabbage night. To some people this became a time to play tricks on others. Some of these tricks were not fun at all. Luckily, community groups and individuals took action and started to change Halloween into a family event. Dressing up in costumes and going "trick or treating", costume parades, community parties and Fall festivals are some of the ways that Halloween is celebrated today.
Other countries have different Fall festivals to honor the deceased.
The Festival of the Dead is one of the most important happenings in both Palermo and the rest of Sicily. The second of November is a festival day for the children of Palermo as, according to tradition,they were made to believe that their dead relatives would return the night before and leave them traditional sweets and cakes on the table (Martorana fruit, which is almond paste made into the shape of different fruit). They would also receive puppets of boiled sugar and toys. It's one way of keeping the memory of their dead relatives and loved ones alive. (from the neomedia Web site)
In Mexico they celebrate El Dia de los Muertos or the Day of the Dead.
Although celebrated in all Catholic countries as All Saints' and All Souls' Days, surely no other peoples have embraced the festival of The Day of the Dead to the extent that the Mexicans have. The celebration begins on the evening of October 31, so the name Los Dias de los Muertos is also often used. This festival is considered by many to be the most important holiday of the year in Mexico. |
