The REAL History of Halloween

You’ve heard it a million times:  Halloween was originally a Celtic celebration during the time of the harvest.  It then became Christianized, and turned into All Hallow’s Day–the feast that started the 3-day period of remembrance of the dead.  Blah blah blah , rapid commercialization, now we have Halloween as we know it.

Well, friends, I’m afraid you’ve been snowed by these popular myths yet again.  The TRUE story of Halloween revolved around a man named Cornelius Trickor: a 1st generation British immigrant, and Oklahoma farm owner in 1899.

Cornelius was a man, who like many others at the time, was chasing the American dream.  And all things considered, he was doing a damn fine job.  He had a 55-acre plot about 10 miles south of the hustle and bustle of Oklahoma City.  Corn, wheat, rye, cabbage, potatoes, tomatoes–you name it, Cornelius could grow it, and grow it well.  The owner of Booth’s General store in OK City would make the ten-mile hike twice a week so he could have the honor of stocking his shelves with Trickor’s produce, not to mention the delectable jellies and preserves that Mrs. Trickor canned with the extra fruits they grew.

The Trickor family had it made.  Cornelius’ two young sons were well read, well fed, and well-versed in how to cultivate crops in the loamy Oklahoma soil.  His wife was the best baker, seamstress, and canner within 50 miles, and Cornelius had made a name for himself with his impeccable fruits and vegetables.

In the late spring of 1902, a family called the Hallows purchased a 20-acre plot that butted up against the Trickor farm on the western side.  Caroline Trickor, Cornelius’ wife, was beside herself with excitement.  She thought having another family around would certainly do everyone some good.  She whipped up her best strawberry rhubarb pie and marched straight over to the Hallow’s house.  It was then that she first realized that something may have been wrong about the Hallow family.  First, they didn’t have a lick of farming equipment.  Not even so much as a hand plow.  How in the heck were they going to manage a farm in Oklahoma with no tools?  But, she put it out of her mind.  The Hallows seemed nice enough anyway.

There was Robert Hallow, who always insisted on being called Bob.  He seemed a bit rotund to be a farmer.  Then there was his wife, Evelyn. She had deep-set eyes, a flush, pock-marked face, and a bulbous nose.  She reminded Caroline of the drunkards who used to whistle at her outside of the tavern when she’d go into town to sell her wares.  Then there were the 2 Hallow boys.  Couldn’t have been a day over 14, and they were both solid as thoroughbred horses–the kind of physique that only comes with plenty of heavy lifting.  Caroline couldn’t imagine how such young boys could’ve developed so quickly.

It would only be a few days before the Trickor family discovered that the Hallows were not farmers at all.  Bob was an oil prospector, who’d just come up from Texas after striking a well.  Paid him pretty well, too, apparently.  He was able to pay the local boys to build him a real nice farmhouse in no time at all.  In fact, by the time summer rolled around, the Hallows had an oil derrick parked on their front lawn.  It was right around the solstice when Cornelius peered out the window to see Bob Hallow walking up to his house, seemingly with a purpose.

Bob offered to buy the Trickors’ land for 2000 dollars.  Caroline almost had to jump out of her chair to stop Cornelius from immediately accepting the offer.  After all, Bob’s offer was for about twice as much money as they made from the farm the previous year.  But with some gentle persuasion, Caroline helped her husband realize that this farm represented the life they built together, and that throwing his legacy away for 2000 dollars is about the stupidest thing a man could do.

Hallow stormed out of the house in a huff.  Not once had he ever been rejected when seeking to buy property for prospecting.  Only this time he wasn’t prospecting.  He just knew that there was a large oil field just under the roots of the Trickor family’s crops.  He had to have that property, but he knew that the Trickors wouldn’t sell.  Bob became blind with fury.  Poor Evelyn tried to keep him from doing something irrational, but that just made her the target of his ire.  Not being able to stand to see her husband so upset, Evelyn decided that she would poison the Trickors’ water well–then her husband could have the property he so wanted.

Unfortunately for Eve Hallow, Caroline Trickor was watching from her window, and witnessed Mrs. Hallow pour a bucket of some substance into the well.  After Eve left, Caroline went to the well, and could faintly smell spirits of ether, a tincture of cannabis, and a tincture of opium.  She realized that she must tell her husband immediately.

Cornelius, surprisingly enough, wasn’t angered by the news at all.  In fact, Caroline could see a glint of happiness in his eyes that she had noticed was missing since he had rejected Bob’s offer.  The next morning, Cornelius instructed his boys to stay inside, and not to make themselves at all visible to the Hallow family.  That afternoon, Cornelius walked over to bring the Hallow family the bad news:  The Trickor boys were dead, apparently died in their sleep of natural causes.  Cornelius informed Bob that he’d be burying his boys the day after tomorrow, and that they’d be moving back east within two weeks’ time.   Bob offered his condolences.

When Cornelius returned home, he told his sons that they would be “haunting” the Hallow household that evening.  They smothered dirty bed linens with animal leavings and wore them around their bodies.  They painted their faces pitch black with charcoal from their mother’s wood stove.  And during the witching hour, The Trickor boys made their way to the Hallow house.  When they arrived, they opened cupboards, slammed doors, and stomped the floorboards.   Evelyn Hallow was the first to poke her head from the bedroom.  When she saw the blackened faces of the Trickor boys illuminated by the moonlight, she was struck with horror.  She ran back into the bedroom and hid.

Moments later, Bob Hallow emerged, wielding a candlestick for his weapon.  The young Trickors danced around him and told to him the tale of his wife’s misdoings.  Bob was apologetic, and desperate not to have these apparitions put an end to his life.  So he asked them what they would take as reparations for the damage his wife had caused.   The young boys, not knowing what to ask for, demanded that he hand over his food supply, especially his supply of sweets.  They returned to the Trickor house triumphant, and with armfuls of food.

The very next morning, Bob came to the door of the Trickor house with a solemn expression on his face.  When Cornelius opened the door, Bob explained everything:  his wife poisoned the well, which killed the Trickor boys, who haunted Bob, which led him to come confess.  Cornelius couldn’t help but to then confess his own bad deed–sending his sons to “haunt” the Hallow family.  The two men embraced, each walking away from the situation much richer in spirit than he had ever been before.

Many years later, Cornelius would write a book on the topic of neighborliness entitled “The Trickor Treatise.”  Which, as I’m sure you know, is the basis for modern Halloween.  You send your children to the house of neighbors you don’t know very well, asking for candy, with the implication being that you trust your neighbor enough not to poison your children.  It is the foundation of community building in the modern world.  And as for Evelyn Hallow; she’s the reason why we send our kids out dressed as ghosts.  When I asked my parents when I was younger, “Why do we dress up for Halloween?”  They’d always respond, “It’s all Hallow’s Eve.”  Now I get it.