Family Matters/Brian Foreman

I like feedback to my columns; I do, I really do. Unfortunately once in awhile a friend will have a somewhat different memory from mine.

"Hey Foreman, nice story" (you ever notice that childhood friends who always used your last name in addressing you still do?). "What story would that be, Dube" (I have to be fair don't I?)? "Your column, more fiction than fact this past month," or something to that effect, was said. I responded with a shy grin knowing somewhat what he meant.

I'm a kid from Hubbell all full of trouble. If I would have had a mantra as a kid, that would have been it. But to defend myself, I really did like fall days and running and jumping in piles of leaves. The problem is, most times they weren't my leaves I was jumping in. Some kids played in their own yards; I played in the yard called Hubbell. We ran through the "ruins," climbing up ladders, going through tunnels and just generally being where we shouldn't have been, and luckily we lived through it.

We went rafting in water-filled ditches, not in a real raft, but ones put together with whatever materials we could find: from wire to rope to the occasional nail. We built forts in the woods up behind my house, way behind, sometimes miles deep, where we would end up coming out somewhere near Calumet. So, OK, Mr. Danny Dube, I was a kid from Hubbell all full of trouble and honestly, I wouldn't trade it for the world because it did make me who I am today. But occasionally I got caught for the trouble.

Halloween is a fun day but I was a Devil's night kid, Hell night, Fox night, whatever term you use for the day before Halloween. This was back in a time where you could buy wax to get the blades on your sled ready for winter; it was canning wax but neither use is what we bought it for. Also, back in the day, you could buy eggs from the grocery store without them needing an explanation of their use; you were going to cook them, right? I was never big into the toilet paper tossing so waxing windows and egging cars was my thing.

You never think when you're a kid that a car will actually stop when you pelt it with eggs, but they did. That's where I credit learning those few choice words that weren't spoken so freely, but are now common language amongst today's teens. Secondly, do you know how hard it is to get wax off a car window? I found out, not really sure who told on me (well, I know, but I won't call him out 30 years later), but when confronted with my wicked deed I did confess and wash and scrape those windows. My justification as a kid was that we weren't setting the town on fire (which was common for cities), and no one truly got hurt. Looking back and with knowledge gained, I now know that eggs take paint off of a car, something I wouldn't want. Wax is difficult to get off windows.

Lastly, a scarecrow thrown into the street does look like a person; I was never comfortable with that one. Thankfully stores won't sell eggs to kids anymore, wax is harder to find and the police seem to have a stronger presence on Devil's, Hell or Fox night, whatever you call it.

I still like the smell of fall and the crisp air of Halloween, but without those devilish experiences I doubt I'd be the "better" person I think I am today.

Brian can be contacted at brian@briankeithforeman.com.