All of us are crazier at night than in daytime — triply so on Halloween. On that pitch black, moonless Halloween night, Wayne’ s plan was not only crazy — it was diabolical. Muscular, barrel-chested and an imposing six-foot, five-inches tall, he was an outstanding athlete at the college where I taught. He was also a bully. Dressed in a white sheet with a bloody knife wound over his heart and a hood with slanted eyeholes and fanged, frowning mouth, he would drop from his hiding place in a tree above a sidewalk in front of approaching trick-or-treaters, raise his arms, and roar, “Y-A-A-A-R-GH,” causing terrified tots to drop their bags of booty and flee. Handing the stolen sweets to his cohorts in nearby bushes, he would climb again to his perch.

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