The Halloween Party that won’t ever be forgotten. It was October 27, 1951, the Saturday night before Halloween. There was a light breeze blowing which created a feel of fall in the air and a dimly glowing crescent moon hanging in the sky, with a few thin clouds drifting leisurely by and blocking the moon light now and then.
A small group of us had been invited to a Halloween Party and we were starting to arrive at the Kimbell home on Main Street in Virgil. I was six years old and somewhat timid and did not know who was going to be there. This was the first party I had ever been invited to and felt somewhat uneasy and was not sure what was going to happen. I felt a little uncertain and was experiencing a little apprehension and anxiety. In other words, I was scared.
My mother had me wear by best school clothes. We didn’t dress up in Halloween costumes like kids do today. We just didn’t have the money or time to make them.
My sister, Frances, who was also my second-grade teacher, was taking me to the party and let me out of the car in front of the Kimbell house. As I got out, I could hear the sound of what I thought was two cats fighting. A chill went up my back and I wasn’t sure this was going to be fun at all. Then I started walking up to the house and I could see a number of eyes looking at me as I walked cautiously up to the front porch which had been decorated with spider webs and a spider which I couldn’t tell if was real or not. Looked real enough to convince me. There were even some big kids there, like in the fifth or sixth grade. Then I saw a friendly face. It was Margret Berry. She was in my second-grade class at school, so I felt somewhat relieved. But it put a great deal of pressure on me not to act afraid. No boy would have wanted to show fear around a girl and especially a girl in my class. We all went inside the house where the electric lights were on. These lights provided some comfort. The big deal about the lights was that my family had just gotten electricity to our farm the year prior. Darkness was a big fear of mine and I carried it with me for a number of years. It might be better said, I was scared of the dark a big part of my young life.
There was all kinds of colorful candy, cupcakes and punch laid out on a large table in what must have been their dining room. We didn’t have one of these rooms at home for we just ate in the kitchen.
I tried really hard not to be rude and mind my manners as my mother told me when we left home. Everything looked so delicious and I was sure she would have thought I ate too much. But most importantly, Mama said, “Now don’t you forget to tell Mrs. Kimbell thank you for inviting you to the party.”
Then the lights blinked and we all gasped, a few screams went up. Someone said, “It is time for us all to go out on the porch and hear some stories. We went out where a number of chairs had been set up in a circle and we all found one and sat down. It was still dark out there even though they had a porch light which they hadn’t turned on. I thought, ‘what a waste of a good light.’
An older person, Mrs. Kimbell I think, stood up and started to talk in a low voice. “I don’t know if you all heard about the accident at the old iron bridge just west of town. You know that old black thing which rattles every time you go over it and feels like you are going to fall through.” Then in a deeper voice, the lady said, “Then it happened. A man was coming across so fast that he lost control of his car and it slid sideways turning over one way and then another before coming to a stop in a big BANG in the water. Landing on its top. There were body parts scattered all over the place. The sheriff asked us to go out and help pick up as much of the remains as we could. So, we did. Now we need your help. You can see in this basket we have a number of parts that we will pass around for each of you to examine.” Someone asked, “Do we have to touch them?” The lady said, “Oh yes they won’t hurt you. The person is dead and the spirits should have left the body by now.” Even though it was dark you could see everyone’s eyes get bigger, even the older kids. Under my breath I said to myself, “You got to be kidding me.”
The first thing they passed was an eye ball, (probably a peeled grape or olive. It was wet, soft and smooth; I was convinced this was crazy. Then a large bone with pieces of flesh still attached. It looked like a leg. I am sure now that it was a large cow bone but at the time, I wasn’t feeling really good about all this. It really never came up on how we were to identify the person. We were all scared to death about handling body parts of whoever.
I don’t remember any other stories told to us but maybe I was just in a state of shock and my ears and mind had shut down.
The party ended and it was time to go home. My sister stopped to pick me up. Since she was a friend of the Kimbell’s, she came into the house for a short visit. It was probably wanting to see if I had behaved myself. As we were leaving, she wanted to know whether I had told Mrs. Kimbell thank you. I hadn’t because I had much more on my mind, so I went to look for her. When she was located, I went up and in a sheepish voice said, “Thank you for letting me come to the party. It was wonderful.”
Mrs. Kimbell replied, “You are very welcome, it was a pleasure to have you join us.”
We didn’t have much but our parents wanted us to be seen polite and clean in public. I can still remember those spit baths my mother would give me on the way to church with her handkerchief and a little spit from her mouth. I swear she could poke her finger into my ear and reach all the way through to the other side. But I was clean.
It had been fun (I think) but I sure was glad to get out of there. We got into the car and headed home. As we left Virgil, we had to cross the river bridge where the man was killed in the story. I closed my eyes and refused to open them until we were well over the bridge. It did shake and rattle just as the lady telling the story said it would.
What I found very interesting was that, while visiting with Margret in doing research for this book she remembered as many details about that Halloween party as I had. Our memories were almost the same. While talking with her, I did share with her about my thoughts and fears as a little boy without being embarrassed. I am almost seventy-nine years old and embarrassed by very little and now not even scared by the dark any more.
I have carried this story around for the last seventy- two years. I swear that not a Halloween goes by that I do not think of that night in Virgil, in 1951. I cross my heart, this is true.
This story was written by Robert Phillips who was born in Eureka in December 1944 and lived in Virgil from 1944 through most of 1952. Robert is writing a book of his younger memories of growing up on a farm just Northwest of Virgil. He can be reached at robert [email protected]
