The tale of what really happened on Halloween Eve in 1951 in Rock Rapids, Iowa
By Bruce B. Brugmann
As I was preparing to update my annual Halloween blog, I noted the news accounts of all the civic effort going this year into making Halloween “safe” in San Francisco. City Search website even said that, “Despite what you’ve read in the news, Halloween isn’t over just because you won’t be experiencing the fun, debauchery, and occasional gunfire in the Castro.”
Well, there wasn’t any known or admitted debauchery and no gunfire in the Halloweens of my youth back in my hometown of Rock Rapids, a small farming community in northwest Iowa. But we did have some fast times and created some almost famous urban legends on Halloween. I can speak for a generation or two back in the early 1950s when Halloween was the one night of the year when we could raise a little hell and and hope to stay one step ahead of the cops.
Or, in the case of Rock Rapids, the one and only cop, who happened to be Elmer “Shinny” Sheneberger. Shinny had the unenviable job of trying to keep some semblance of law and order during an evening when the Hermie Casjens gang was on the loose. Somehow through the years, nobody remembered exactly when, the tradition was born that the little kids would go house to house trick and treating but the older boys could roam the town looking to make trouble and pull off some pranks.
It was all quite civilized. The Casjens gang would gather (no girls allowed) and set out about our evening’s business, being careful to stay away from the houses of watchful parents and Shinny on patrol. Dave Dietz and I specialized in finding cars with keys in the ignition and driving them to the other end of town and just leaving them. We tipped over an outhouse or two, the small town cliche, but one time we thought there was someone inside. We never hung around to find out. There was some mischief with fences and shrubs.