Halloween in the Big City

The area where we are living was built for returning war veterans, one of the few affordable housing left in this city. It is a massive footprint, large enough to warrant designation on any given city map. This community of buildings and green space is where young families live side by side, underneath, and on top of older long-time residents, whose days are now measured by the smaller details of life. It is strangely like living in a suburban spread, yet in the middle of the city. For our first year here, it has been the ideal choice. In some ways, it resembles Park LaBrea except the property is not cut off to the rest of the city by gates. Instead, the property blends into the landscape of the East Side, open, inviting, and easily accessible. Even the lack of gates doesn't deter you from feeling safe here as you walk around, noticing the older residents sitting on park benches, enjoying the fresh air.

The large green space held a Halloween festival for the plethora of kids, who call this home. There was an impressive corn maze in the middle, games along the edges, and a dance floor where loud music blared from speakers. My son, who had been beyond excited about this day, soon joined in the fracas of playing games for candy and trying to get through the maze. We took a break from the festivities by heading to a friend's house for pizza, and wine for the adults. Then we went 'trick or treating' city style. We rode the elevator up the top floor of our friend's building and made our way down by walking down the stairs of the fire escape.

Each time a door opened to welcome our gang of kids, you couldn't help but glimpse the life inside. Older people, some with live-in aides, still opened their doors, eager to give out the sugary confections, perhaps nostalgic about former lives when they were the ones knocking on doors with their young ones behind masks. Each opened door also revealed the way people imagine spaces that are all identical to their neighbors. You could see how a bookshelf in one corner changed the way the room flowed. Or the way long-time residents hung chandeliers over dining areas. It was illuminating for each of us adults as we wound our way down 14 flights. The kids' bags full, we headed to our building and to our apartment. The adults continued drinking wine as all the kids played, or rather, destroyed our son's room. Every so often, the doorbell would ring, signaling another round of 'trick or treaters,' who had ventured to our door that had been covered in fake cobwebs.

My son didn't comment on the differences of trick or treating in apartment buildings versus his old neighborhood in LA. Instead, he was concerned he have the 'right' costume this year and for the next year. His friends left with their tired parents behind. My husband and I put our young boy to bed, relieved to have survived this first Halloween in the city.