Once Upon a Halloween

One Halloween at the Guild Bookstore in Chicago, we
suddenly realized what day it was and that we had no
treats for the goblins and ghosts who would soon be
coming by.

This was the late 1960's when the bookstore was on
Halsted Street in the Lincoln Park area. The
neighborhood just to the north of us was mostly
hispanic, many families with children.

We sent a member out to buy treats, but he had not
returned when they began coming to our door, the
witches and pirates and cartoon characters,
holding out their bags to be filled.

Although we primarily sold new books, we kept a
couple of shelves of used books to fill up space
until we could completely stock the store. Some
kindly soul had donated some Reader's Digest
Condensed Books, and these had been stacked
on the floor until someone could decide what to
do with them. They don't sell very well. Most
people prefer to read the whole book, and not
what is left after being chopped apart and
reassembled.

I passed by these stacks on my way to the door,
and in desperation I grabbed up an armload of
the Reader's Digest books.

To our great surprise, the children were delighted
with the books. Some asked for two. Some of the
adults herding the children about also held out their
hands. And there were children who came back for
a second book, or to bring a friend who hadn't
received one. And there were those who refused the
candies when they finally arrived, No, they said, they
wanted a book. The word had gotten around.

After all the Reader's Digests were gone, we gave out
books from the ten-cent box that usually sat in a chair
outside the door.

The candies that were left when the rush was over, we
put on our round table where members and customers
sat some evenings drinking pop and coffee and holding
heating discussions.

I sit at that same table now and drink my morning coffee,
and I was thinking about that Halloween 40 years or so ago.