The Last Candy Store

I grew up on the southwest side of Chicago -- near 60th Street and Western Avenue. About five blocks away was an old candy store with a long glass case near the front window -- one of those old, plate glass windows that never stayed clean. When I was a kid, we used to walk to the candy store and pick out the sweetest, hardest, chewiest candies, all for a nickel or a dime each. "In my day," my dad said, "it really was a penny. And you could get it fresh, all for a penny."

That's inflation for you. My favorites were the little wax bottles filled with purple, red, yellow, or green liquid. It was sweet water or something like it -- really disgusting and good for the neighborhood dentists. (I must have had a cavity in every molar.) You bit off the top (looked like a Coke cap) and squirted the liquid down your throat. You could chug it or enjoy it drop by drop. Then you'd finish off the treat with something called a snowball -- a powder blue candy with a malted-milk center, covered with sugary, white coconut sprinkles. Those were so beautiful -- as dreamy as the wax bottles were south side.

The candy shop also sold multicolored sugar buttons on long strips of paper (5 cents a tear), whips (red and black Twizzlers), packaged sweets like Junior Mints, Milk Duds, Charleston Chews, and individual candies. Besides the Coke bottles, there were fireballs, chocolate drops, lemon drops covered with powdered sugar, twists of powdered stuff wrapped in white paper that tasted like Sweet-Tarts but different. That long glass case was full of every treat imaginable.

The rest of the store was so empty. The old owner put our purchases into white bags and rang up the sale on an old black cash register, where the numbers popped up on little tags in the window. He sold newspapers, magazines, coffee, sandwiches. I think he lived in the back, behind a thin, flowered curtain. He sold cigarettes to the retirees and I remember that they used to sit around and read the paper and smoke all afternoon.

Did the shop have a name? Don't know. It was just the candy store on 55th. Don't know how long it lasted -- certainly, it must have closed up long before I moved to New York. I'd love to find out what happened to it and what is there now.

The Halloween Pumpkin After-Party

Here are a few candlelit memories of Halloween 2009. It was a wonderful holiday ...

screamingly spooky ...

a hearty party ...

and a happy time for all, big and small!

Thanks to Floyd Smith Sanford, III, for these illuminating photos. And a huge shout-out to the brilliant artist who carved all of these fabulous faces. Next year, take a stroll down West 74th Street between Columbus and Central Park West after dark. You might just stumble onto another party!

Ghost Stories on the Radio - Updated 10/31

I told ghost stories on WFUV-FM radio (90.7FM) this Saturday morning, Oct. 31, at 7:30 a.m. WFUV-FM is the station of Fordham University. If you missed the show, (it WAS a bit early), you can hear it on the podcast. Click on: http://www.npr.org/rss/podcast.php?id=510086 and then click on Halloween Show.... You can can also find the show at http://www.wfuv.org/audio/archive/index.html after Nov. 9, 2009.

Had a great, final ghost tour of the season today in Central Park. I'm always happy to see familiar faces and meet new people from all over the country. Hope to see you soon!

A Glorious, Spooky Autumn Day

I can't believe I haven't posted to this blog since Labor Day! I thought autumn was slowly chugging along.

Today, I led my ghost tour of the Upper West Side. The morning was rainy, a bit foggy -- perfect spectral weather! Sandy Sanford, my charming husband and (ta-da!) lovely assistant, told a great story about crime in the Majestic Apartments and things got spookier as we went along. We explored Bethesda Terrace and Fountain, the Naumberg bandshell, a stand of ancient American Elm trees, statues, and a series of story-book carvings by Jacob Wrey Mould. (You can see some of these images on my Facebook page, "Dering Walking Tours.") Later, we wound our way through a hushed and eerie part of the Ramble. I ended the tour across from the New-York Historical Society Library with a favorite story of a bookish ghost.

Witch Designed by Mould
Photo by Maria Dering

Eerie moans and screams were provided by the haunted house that was part of the Pumpkin Festival at Bethesda Terrace -- saw lots of families carving pumpkins, Park Rangers displaying giant papier-mache spiders (or maybe they weren't just paper ...), children having their faces painted, and everyone enjoying Central Park.

Next week is my final public ghost tour of the season: 11 a.m. on Hallowe'en! I hope everyone is enjoying a wonderful autumn!

Labor Day

I am glad it's Labor Day. I am not a fan of summer, never have been. Too hot, too many mosquitoes, too boring and too little work. Several years ago, I saw a commercial on Lifetime TV where the tag line was "waiting for summer." Beautiful scrapbook-size photos eased their way across the screen: the seashore, a family digging in the sand -- bucolic bliss. Must exist for some, but not for me.

I'm up early, laboring on labor day; you can read the results at my new blog, http://ghostly-ghosts.blogspot.com Now we enter the season of light and sound and color, the start of everything. Stay tuned for more posts that I promise will be less cynical.

Meteorology

Why does it smell like Fall at the end of July?

Are there ghosts in the gingko trees, combing out the last bits of summer?

Has August come and gone, scattering her glow on the tip of a match?

Missed the eclipse, but I hear the sound of the boxcars on Damen Avenue, the whistle in the night, a rumble of light through trees in the open window. A long yesterday ago.

Summer night -- no stars -- only the light from the toy shop where they are working late.

Tango and the End of Civilization

This evening I heard Hector del Curto's Eternal Tango Quintet at the Main Squeeze Accordion Festival in Riverside Park.

Photo by Maria A. Dering

The program was arranged beautifully, a mix of classic and new tangos, starting and ending with driving arrangements of merciless Astor Piazzolla compositions. Listening to these pieces made me think of fin de siecle Vienna, Gustav Mahler, all the doomed heroes of Thomas Mann, Evita Peron, and the dark corners of history. Especially in the 1920s and 1930s, tango seemed to be a harbinger of the end of civilization ...

Photo by Maria A. Dering

Saved by music??

To hear clips of del Curto's group, visit http://www.hectordelcurto.com/eternaltango_project.html

Take heart!