Why I love to watch my kids smash pumpkins...

When I was in high school, the chums and I (we really called ourselves the chums - there were four of us) would partake in an annual Pumpkin Fest.

The first year it started out innocently enough. When we were out trick or treating, we couldn't help notice that almost every house had a jack-o-lantern in front. We thought about how funny it would be to smash a few pumpkins. After the trick-or-treating was over, we went back out in the neighborhood and ran up to a few doors, picked up the pumpkins and threw them in the street. We didn't get caught, so we did a few more.

That first year we had a funny experience:
The town I grew up in is in a valley, with the town crawling up the hills on each side of the main street. When you get up on the hills, the roads are terraced, some very steeply, so there are often roofs of the houses on one street, at the same level of the actual next street up the hill. In many places, its very easy to jump from a street onto the roof of a house.

We were on a street that was very high above the houses below. The street level was probably 10 feet above the roof of the next house. There was a retaining wall that was probably 30 feet high and we thought it would be funny to go drop the pumpkins between that very high wall and the house. The back of the house was probably about 3 feet from the wall. We went to a house and three of us grabbed a jack'o'lantern, the fourth guy picked up a pumpkin that hadn't been carved. We took turns dropping the jack-o-lanterns off the wall, laughing when they'd hit the ground splatting. We saved the full pumpkin for last. The guy dropped the pumpkin and it fell the 30 feet, and hit the ground. It didn't splat or break - no sir, it came back up. I've never quite seen a pumpkin bounce like that. As luck would have it, there was a window there, and on the rebound that pumpkin headed towards and right through the window. We took off running back to my friends house, as soon as we heard the shattering glass. On the way we realized that we needed to take a very indirect route, as our footprints were easily spotted in the freshly fallen snow. We spent about 5 minutes running up an alley and down the next street before we made it to my friends house.

We didn't get caught, but we weren't idiots - no sir. We wised up real quick!! We learned a very valuable lesson:
A pumpkinfest on foot, was downright idiotic. We adjourned our first annual Pumpkin Fest, looking forward to the next year when the oldest of us (as sophomores) would be able to drive.

Mind you, we weren't totally cruel, we realized that people liked their jack-o-lanterns, but only until Halloween (right?) So at any point after the trick or treating was over, it was acceptable to have a Fest.

Halloween was spent "casing the joint" during trick-or-treating. Yes, as sophomores in high school, we were a bit old for trick-or-treating. When we went to the doors, the people would say "Aren't you a bit old for this?" Of course we were, but they still gave us candy, so why stop? As the night wound down, it was time for the Great Pumpkin Fest, with one significant improvement - a get-away vehicle.

When all the parents where trying to get their little ghouls peeled off the walls and into bed, the great Pumpkin Fest would begin. We kept tallies, but I don't really remember how many we got. It would have been a few dozen each. At the time we had no remorse. We took delight in knowing that all across town poor kids would be waking up from their sugar coma and having to witness the horror of broken dreams, busted candles, and pumpkin guts right out in the street for every car to drive right over. We were heartless monsters.

This year we actually got caught once. After a smash at a duplex, we were getting cocky, just barely jogging down the street. (We were smart enough to know that you never park your car on the street you are smashing. So the car was a block or so away) We stopped at the corner and were deciding if we should go to the car or up the next block to look for hollow victims. Out of nowhere a man appeared. A scary, hippie, crazy looking man. Yelling and cussing at us. He kept yelling at us "What the hell do you think you're doing?" (What the hell does it look like? We're destroying your personal property)

He actually gave us the option of walking down to the police station with him (we were only about three blocks away) or walking back down to his house and cleaning up the mess. We chose the later. We cleaned up the mess and promised never to do it again(with that pumpkin)

We had been caught. No criminal charges, but caught none the less. Any other hippie (who wasn't stoned out of his gourd) might have been less understanding and marched us right down to the police station.

However - we weren't idiots - no sir. We wised up real quick!! We learned a very valuable lesson:
A get-away car, is not much of a get-away car if it doesn't get you away. We decided to heed the advice of our health teacher and the next year: we would get a designated driver.

By our Junior year, we were all driving. Trying to decide who's vehicle we would use was a no brainer. Four guys jumping in and out of a Honda Accord? I think not. Jumping in and out of a 2 door Camero? That's damn near impossible. How about a Nissan truck? Well we're starting to get warm. How about a full sized cargo van? Completely bare on the inside save for the two front seats. A sliding side door, and two back doors? Now we're talking. Three of us jump out, smash some pumpkins, jump back in, and we're gone. That's what its all about! Volume!

After a few rounds of smashing, as we were jumping back into the van, some of us got the great idea that we were in a cargo van. Lets fill it up with cargo! Why smash a few pumpkins here and a few there? We could just take the pumpkins (seriously, Halloween's over - who wants a rotting pumpkin on their porch?) and take them all to one central location for "disposal". This is turning less and less in a delinquent activity, and more into a community service project of sorts!! A community service project where all the participants are dressed in black.

So it began... We would pull up to a neighborhood, the van would slowly roll down the street, guys would jump out and run to a house, grab the pumpkin, then run back and throw the pumpkin in the van, and head to a new house, all the while the van was slowly rolling down the street. With a designated driver and 3 guys running, we could clear out a neighborhood in a matter of minutes. By the end of the night, the van was starting to fill up.

Our high school is the only building on top of a hill. The road is very steep, about 1/4 mile long. The high school hill was where you would leave your mark. People would spray paint their year in huge letters on the road. A big, 10 foot tall '8' in one lane, and a 10 foot tall '9' in the other. Everyone that went to school the next day would see the accomplishment and wonder who it was that had made such a beautiful tribute to modern education. Anytime new letters were on the road, all of the teachers would spend the next day looking at fingers in each class for spray paint residue.

If you had 5 cans of spray paint left over after float building, you went to the hill to make your mark. If you had 50 orange construction cones, you put them up middle of the road on the hill. If you had 100 Realtor "For Sale" signs, you would line the side of the road going up the hill. If you had a van load of pumpkins to smash, you headed to the hill. Of course the coolest thing to do would be to go to the top and roll them down the hill. We tried that with a few, but as I'm sure you know, pumpkins are hard to get to roll where you want them to go. They just rolled down, and bounced off the side of the road, down the steep embankment. So we started disposing of our pumpkins in the road heading to the high school.

Oh, the next morning was beautiful!!! A fourth of a mile of pumpkin splattered road! It was fantastic!! Of course, the next day, it was the talk of the school! Somebody had covered the hill with smashed pumpkins. We were legends in our own minds.

It was a huge success, but we weren't idiots - no sir. We were getting wiser every year. We learned a very valuable lesson: A pumpkin hauler fills up much faster if it has more pumpkin snatchers.

As Halloween rolled around, the anticipation built. This was our Senior year! It was going to be the best! One driver and three snatchers? Hell no, we need more!! With a full sized van, we could expand our crew! We recruited a few more friends. One driver and 5 or 6 guys jumping out, smashing pumpkins, jumping back in, and we were off to a new neighborhood!! This was going to be it. The only downside, was that this was our last year. We needed to find some people to pass the tradition on to. We grabbed some of our friends that were juniors, and took them. For me, the best and proudest moment of any pumpkin fest was the day that my baby sister (a freshman) agreed to be a part of and carry on the tradition of the Great Pumpkin Fest!!

Everyone looks to their senior year with great anticipation. This has to be the best! Everybody has to make their senior year the best! What would be worse for a football player than missing the homecoming game of their senior year? The most popular girl in the class moving to a different school right before she is crowned Prom Queen? The leading roll in the spring musical getting laryngitis right before the big night? For us, what could possibly be worse than missing the Great Pumpkin Fest of our senior year? There was not a chance of that happening.

Halloween this year was on a Monday, so we had the whole weekend to prepare. We had all the people lined up. We had the vehicle lined up. We had our clothes lined up. We even had our code of ethics lined up: "All for one and one for" - oh, hell no! If you get caught because you can't get back in the van, that's your problem! And you better keep your mouth shut!! We all knew that we wouldn't jeopardize the night just to save one guys ass.

This was going to be the best Pumpkin Fest ever!!! And it was!

The stories that came from that night would play on for years. Stories of multiple loads of pumpkins being taken to the school. Stories of hiding the pumpkins behind the equipment shed, so we could go get more. Stories of the van rolling through a neighborhood, with people running back and forth from houses on both sides, throwing pumpkins in the van. Stories of a man jumping out of the bushes yelling at us that we weren't going to "do it again this year!" (apparently we had been down this block the last two years). There were stories of a man chasing me down the street as I ran, with his pumpkin under my arm, to jump into the back of the moving van. There were stories told of guys running for blocks, through yards, and down alleys, to find the van that had to make a quick escape. There were stories of me taking my sister under my wing, and showing her the ways of the Pumpkin Fest. Stories of having to throw a pumpkin at a man, just to get away.

All wonderful stories related to me by my friends. My sister told me some funny stories. My dad also told me a few stories about that night. And the workers at Loaf-n-Jug. And the nurses did, too. And the police. They all told me stories that helped fill in the gaps.

For you see, when I woke up in the hospital on Tuesday morning, I had no recollection of The Great Pumpkin Fest on Monday night, nor anything on Sunday, or Saturday, or Friday. I remembered leaving the Jiffy Lube (or whatever grease monkey shop) after having my oil changed on Thursday after school, but that was the last thing I could remember.

Apparently, we had stopped by the local hang-out, Loaf-n-Jug, in between pumpkin runs. There was a crowd of about 50 people from our high school there. A car of 4 kids from another school pulled up, and they started walking through the crowd punching people, and then they took off. (To this day it astounds me that four kids were able to walk through a crowd of 50, throwing punches, and they made it through the crowd and back to their car and left, without getting their asses beat). There was a county sheriff there getting coffee, and when he saw what happened he called for back-up. Right away there were both of our hometown cops there, and about four cars from Colorado Springs.

As the stories go, I got punched in the face, fell back and hit my head on the cement curb. After I came to, I was acting crazy and one of the home town cops got so irritated that he told me he was going to arrest me if I didn't calm down. He finally told the Loaf-n-Jug manager to call my dad, who came and got me. Quickly my dad noticed that something was wrong.

I do remember being in the waiting room at the ER sitting next to my Dad:

"Are we at the hospital?"

"Yes"

"Why are we here?"

"You got hit in the head"

"Did I get hit by a pumpkin?"

"No, someone punched you. "

"Who punched me?"

"I don't know"

"Did I get hit in the head with a pumpkin?"

"No"

"Is this the hospital?"

"Yes"

"Why are we here?"

"You got hit in the head"

"By a pumpkin?"

"No"

"Have I already asked you that question?"

"Yes"

"Are we at the hospital?"

"Did you bring me here?"

"Yes"

"This is the hospital, isn't it?"

"Yes"

"Did I get hit by a pumpkin?"

I think this went on for the entire time we were waiting to be seen in the ER.

I remember being woken up throughout the night by the nurses. They had to keep waking me up (I guess to make sure I wasn't dead) and they kept asking me questions. I remember them asking if I knew where I was and why. I remember saying "I think I got hit in the head with a pumpkin"

So I hadn't missed my pumpkin fest, I just didn't know I was there.

On a positive note, this incident did provide my friends with some important medical training. The next time I hit my head, my eyes rolled back in my head, I convulsed, lost my memory, and started asking the same questions over and over, they knew with-in two hours that something was wrong and they should call my dad I can't say that they picked up on it quickly because they let me sit on the side of the ice rink until the skate session was over, then one of them drove my car up to my friends house for me, then we sat around in the hot tub for an hour or so, then they realized it, then called my dad. "Mr. Karr, Joel hit his head and he's acting goofy again."