; \ I i I I The NEW BERN PUBLISHED WEEKLY IN THE HEART OF EASTERN NORTH CAROLINA 5^ Per Copy VOLUME NEW BERN, N. C., FRIDAY, OCTOBER 31, 1958 NUMBER 31 Well, New Bern’s eager young sters, all set for Halloween, can’t wait for spooks and goblins to show up on the scene. They started celebrating, days and days ago, and all jaclc-o- lanterns, ^ grotesquely smiling so, have sorf of worn their welcome out, before this special night, witches riding broomsticks will be a common sight. Instead of waiting patiently, with great anticipation, local juve niles, alas, have rushed the situa tion. They’ve had a slew of parties, and played the usual games, they’ve gazed at friends in masque rade, and tried to guess their names. At schools, in homes all over town, kids have joined the fun, and Halloween’*-most over, though it’s hardly yet begun; Perhaps, I’m only getting old, and cranky with my years, I guess my bushings are worn out, I may have stripped my gears. But it seems to me in days gone by, re call it if you can, our Halloween observance was on a one night plan. Not chopped in little jiblets, for nibbling at all week, with the prolonged celebration growing stale before its peak. We kids back in the golden past had one exciting night, but the mayhem we could fashion, threw grown-ups in a fright. We roamed and roamed with violence that was most extraordinary, and few things that were movable, remained stationary. vToday those brqts of yesterday " parents, aridlHey’re saying the younger generation is much, much worse at straying. But kids, don’t let Pop kid you, he was quite a pro blem child, and all the neighbors viewed him as someone rather wild. He used to pester street cars, by yanking at their trolley, and break ing into Central School to him was oh so jolly. He’d climb in through a window, and ring«.the bell like mad; No he wasn’t any angel, now honest, were you Dad? Remember, you climbed that flag pole, and when you got up “there, you hung aloft for all to see long handled underwear. Then with fiendish 'cleverness, you cut the rope off short, and greased the pole, oh yes indeed, in those days kids were smart. I’m glad that things are tamer now, instead of being mean. New Bern’s small-fry act right nice, in spite of Halloween. But it seems to me that, somewhere, something’s awful wrong, when Halloween’s ob servance is spread out all week long. And though I should feel some remorse, in memory there’s delight when I recall the mischief you could do in oqe short night. Unlike today, the old time brats knew naught of trick or treat, they simply rambled, pulling pranks on every city street. Before the days of plumbing, farther back than we recall, when all folks had houses, a large one and a small, the youngsters thought it clever on every Hallo ween to sneak through countless backyards, and rearrange the scene. Upsetting little houses was quite the thing to do, and those who owned the houses were mighty upset too. Ashes dumped on porches—such acts were on the list, and usually aimed at cranky souls, who fumed and shook their fist. Woe tp the grown up who had shown, in dim or recent past, that he had little use for kids, for then the die was C8St The man who kept the baseball that were knocked into his yard got what was called his just des sert, and of course, he took it hard. Tiiis night of nights they made a wreck of his front-yard picket fence. It wasn’t very neighborly, TI^JE TO FORM—Two of Now Bern's cutest cut-u|M, David tlfirner and Ann DIsosway, fry their hand iri' cuttinjr a ' pumpkin for Haiioween. David's wisecrack gets a big laugh from Ann, and even the Jack-o-Lantern has to smile.—Phw* -to by Billy Beiihecs.' - * , ■ Local Adults Fear Goblins Just Like Their Youngsters When New Bern adults smirk at youngsters who fear Halloween witches, goblins and ghosts, they are in effect wearing a false face themselves All oldsters, whether they care to admit it or not, are plagued by their own pet goblins—every day and night of the year. Some of the things they are afraid of happen to be real, but-many are imaginary or will never catch up with the intimidated mortals who dread them. These goblins aren’t to be con fused with the skeletons that ev ery family has in its closet. New Bernians are conscious of them, too, but are most careful not to let them get out and shake their scandalized bones under public scrutiny. Perhaps no goblin is more feared by all of us than the spectre of ill health. We may not be fully grateful for the amazingly intri cate bodies that God gave us when He created us in His own likeness. Usually we abuse them foolishly, but lurking in the back of every one’s mind is the haunting realiza tion that there’s no substitute for good health. As a matter of fact, much of the advertising aimed at us by manu facturers makes ^full use of this fear complex. One highly success ful toothpaste peddler found it far more profitable to harp on “pink and it didn’t make much sense. Juvenile delinquents are all the talk, today but Dad and Grandpa were much worse, no matter what folks say. Modern youngsters really bad are few and far between, a fact that’s doubly evident on a modern Halloween. toothbrush” than to publicize his product, and the claim thal this or that cigarette is “less irritating” to the delicate membrane;^ of the nose and throat has paid off hand somely too. “You rarely ever know it, and your closest friend won’t tell you.” Maybe _he will and maybe he won’t. Anyhow, an ad writer on New York’s Madison avenue spawned these omnious words, and millions of bottles of a well-known mouth wash were sold as a result. Anothei; of our goblins is the fear of economic reversals. The employee is afraid that somewhere along the way he will lose his job, and fail to get another one. ^he employer dreads the possiM> lity that mounting costs, keen com petition and gpvernment restric tions will put him out of business. New Bern women who are pret ty, along with those who aren’t, are fearful of wrinkles, and gray strands that show up in their locks. The men folks don’t shout for joy, either, when a trace of snow shows up on their noggins, but are far more afraid of baldnesi^ 'The loss of social prominence is a goblin for many. They panic at the thought that they wUl be snub bed when invitations are sent out for parties and functions where the so-called elite are destined to gath er. GETTING A PREVIEW—Ken Powell, who lives on W;atson avenue, peeps at himself in the morror before venturing forth to celebrate Halloween. He doesn’t have a Chinam^ s chance of fooling his neighborhood friends with that On- ental face, but it’s going to be fun trying.—Photo by Billy Benners. ’ ' Such folks suffer almost as much as the social climber who has failed to crash the inner circle on any and all previous occasions, and is scared stiff over the prospect of spending the rest of his or her life on the outside looking in. There’s a bit of, the pessimist in all of us. Day in and day out, in our secret heart, we shudder over the thought of calamities that in most instances never happen. The calamities that do come usually are misfortunes never contemplat ed, and insidiously sneak up on our blind side. Back of it all, of course, is the age-old animal instinct that tells us self preservation is the first law of nature. We want to preserve the things that are near and dear to us, and because we treasure them to the utmost we are con stantly looking over our shoulders for an unseen robber. What’s more, we are plagued by superstitions that far outweigh the (Continued on Page 2)

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