I'm not sure if I would let my daughter go trick-or-treating today in the traditional sense.  She'll soon be 30, and I remember a time when it was a joy to see her in costume and excited.  At the very same time, I worried about her safety.

People say the tales of needles and razor blades and poisoned candy are urban legends.  It was more than 50 years ago, and I was a little boy, and there was a story on the television news about a little boy who died after eating his candy.  The story was on TV for many nights, and I can't recall if the case was ever solved.  His crying mother told a reporter she usually threw away most of the candy he collected.  Night after night his smiling picture appeared on TV, but it was all a memory of a boy who no longer lived.

We've had a serious drug problem in this country since before there was a country.  Modern media only heightened concern over the last 50 to 70 years.  Now, we're faced with a heinous threat from something called fentanyl, which can look like sweet and sour candy.  If my daughter was a little girl this Halloween, we wouldn't be going door-to-door.  We will be visiting the trunk events sponsored by local churches and the annual event promoted by Bish's RV.

My daughter wouldn't have been happy with my call.  She would've thought she was missing out on a much bigger haul (and she rarely ate most of the candy she received).  In a few days, she would've forgotten Halloween and would've been dreaming of Christmas.

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