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Edited on Tue Nov-02-04 02:24 AM by HEyHEY
Highlights of his letter include
""This article, which MR. (Name withheld) goes into great length to describe and direct youths on how to create/manufacture illegal and dangerous bombs does nothing but encourage young people to go out and break the law"
"Throwing eggs or other items will not be tolerated by anyone - especially the police"
I should add - I'm framing the letter
Here's the editorial
This is the pre-edited version, so fuck off.
"Now, before I go on I should point out I am merely reminiscing and not encouraging such shenanigans from the youth of Princeton. But, isn't Halloween as splendid time?
I remember the lead up to the whole event. Sometime around late September we'd hear loud bangs coming from all around the neighbourhood - the older kids had firecrackers. But who? We'd naturally spend the next few weeks finding out exactly who had the explosives and then we'd quietly approach them with our allowance money to purchase some. The prices were always jacked up because we were young and suckers. Usually we bought bottle rockets, air-bombs, whistling dixies, the feared dancing devil, crackling bombs and my personal favourite smoke bombs. These were the "banned" fireworks that for the most part you had to hide from your parents because of their possibility to seriously hurt. However after hiding these, on the week before Halloween my Dad would take me down to the fireworks store and by screaming demons and hummeroos, I was allowed to have them because they were legal, thus, not a serious threat to my fingers.
However, as soon as my folks were upstairs watching T.V. I'd be in the garage with electrical tape and a hammer. I'd turn all of my legal hummeroos into dangerous explosives by packing the gun powder even tighter by pounding it with the hammer. As well, I'd make a little launcher with copper tubing so I could actually pretend I could aim my bottle rockets. I was ready for Halloween.
The evening usually began by meeting my fellow degenerates somewhere in the neighbourhood you could usually find them by listening for explosions. Then we'd all start roaming the area in search of things to blow up. Or for another group of neighbourhood kids with which to engage in a firecracker war. There was no concern for eyes, ears or skin as we hurled explosives at each other until a police cruiser came up the street and we all scattered like a herd of gazelles. The back-routes of my neighbourhood were the best escape route, if you knew them. No officer ever managed to catch us, we were victorious!
After the fuzz left, we'd spend the rest of the night looking for them if only to run away again. Our little hearts pounding as we tried to run outrun each other, because it's only the last one that gets caught, and a free ride home.
One of my favourite halloween memories was the time one of my friends had brought a water balloon slingshot out with us. My house was the closest so I had to sneak in and get some eggs from the fridge. I snuck in thinking I was in the clear, but as I was rummaging through the fridge the kitchen light came on.
"What are you doing?" Ask my father.
"I'm just getting something to drink," I said in an attempt to save my bacon.
"No you're not," he answered. "You're getting eggs."
I knew the jig was up, I was waiting to be not allowed outside for the rest of the night. Then Dad pushed past me, grabbed a few eggs and handed them to me.
"Get the Fair's," he said.
The Fair's were the nosy, judgemental neighbours that lived across the street. And that night, with Dad's permission, I egged their house. It still gives me a chuckle."
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