On or around Halloween, Wakefield generated a bevy of home-grown goblins. They had a tendency to come out before dusk and lurk in the shadows just off Main Street until an appropriate witching hour. This was where they planned their evening’s skullduggery. Then at exactly the right moment, they would commandeer some poor farmer’s truck and disappear into the darkness where they would perform their magic tricks. These goblins were crafty beyond imagination, and only on rare occasion was there any actual documentation that they had been behind some of the strange happenings around town. The unsuspecting farmer was always blamed for their misdeeds, as his truck may have been seen in the vicinity at the time.
In one of those rare occasions where documentation is available, the following actual photographs were taken of another victim. Arlene reported that she was virtually levitated from her bed one evening, and then posed, as it were, between two unseen and mysterious forces. One of her classmates was fortunate enough to capture the event on film. If it were not for these rare occurrences, few would believe that Wakefield’s goblins actually existed. This rare picture from 1950 was taken at the Lake of the Ozarks, establishing that Wakefield’s goblins were extremely mobile, and could strike almost anyplace at anytime. We all know that Arlene is capable of putting on her best face under trying circumstances, such as these, and she did not show the terror she was feeling at this moment.
A second rare picture above is one of the vehicles alleged to have been used in the performance of Halloween’s festivities. Its owner, as usual, denies involvement in any nefarious events, indicating that his vehicle suddenly disappeared one evening, and quite mysteriously reappeared early the next morning. So many victims! So little confessing.
All other events must be accepted on faith that these happenings were performed by Wakefield’s goblins, and that a large number of victims continue to bear the scars from dozens of misplaced accusations today. Arlene and I are only two of the many victims of these goblin’s pranks.
One of their recurrent themes was to put collected things in unexpected places. The selecting and placing are highly developed skills of Wakefield’s goblins. Indoor plumbing, particularly in many farm homes of the day, was a pure luxury. Without this luxury, nature’s urge was relieved by walking the back path to the facility, sometimes called homes with out-facilities. These facilities came in various forms, but always had one front door. Inside the door was one, two, or three seats. These are called one, two, and three-holers. Exactly why there might have been such a choice is not entirely clear, as the seats were usually cut to the same dimensions. One would readily understand different sized seats. Possibly the multiple seats were for family emergencies, although never in the author’s experience had a facility been co-habited. A three-holer may have been the womens’ potty, designed for their clustering in times of need.
Somewhere just to the northwest of town was an outstanding three-holer. It was ideally located a considerable distance from the house, and was partially obscured by shrubs and trees. With the assistance of 6 large goblins, or 10 smaller ones, it was easily possible to lift this facility straight up from its foundation, being careful in the process not to slip into the aromatic receptacle. It was then a simple matter to lift the facility onto the bed of any cattle truck for relocation. The preferred relocation was in the precise middle of Main Street, facing east, in the block next to the city park. Goblins do their best work at night, of course, and are careful to return all borrowed vehicles to their rightful owners prior to sunrise. At sunrise, lo and behold, there appears in the middle of Wakefield’s Main Street a new facility capable of servicing all the visitors to its city park and library. This feat is known to have been achieved on several occasions precisely over Halloween night.
Goblins often targeted the flat roofs which shelter pedestrians as they walked along Main Street. When they were not sure what to do with assorted collectibles, they would store as many as possible on these overhanging structures. One such roof would hold as many as 100 cream cans. When unattached objects were missing, these roofs were the first places to look after the infamous night. On one occasion a pair of goats managed to crawl onto the roof, no doubt, at the same time the goblins were unloading the cream cans.
The old town of Wakefield was laid out along perfectly straight streets, east to west, and north to south. Main Street was almost the longest, measuring 10 blocks. It was a particularly wide street, and the street lights were elevated on the corners beyond the reach of most goblins. The parallel streets to the north and south of Main Street were as long or longer than Main Street, and featured street lights hanging in the middle of each intersection. It was reported one Halloween that Elkin’s cattle truck, complete with stock racks, had been commandeered, and was witnessed on the street farthest to the south. The report continued that a dozen goblins were hanging all over the stock racks as the truck ran at high speed from one end of town to the other. As it passed through each intersection, one of the goblins would reach up with a board and whop the street light. They called this “whopping the lights on Alsop’s street”. The next night confirmed that this story was entirely true. As expected, Elkins truck was returned well before sunrise.
One of the more entertaining and mysterious of Halloween feats was what happened to the old Model T Ford which always sat behind the IGA store. Given the activities afoot, the store’s owner felt it best to be out of town on Halloween. To his dismay on returning, the T behind the store was missing. Where could it be? They looked high and low. The Hawes were high on the list of suspects, being competitors on the corner just across the street. On conceding its total disappearance, they opened the store, and presto! There it was, shiny as new on the inside of their store. Those clever goblins had dismantled the T, carried it inside, and reassembled it without knocking over a single can of goods. One might wonder exactly how many goblins it takes to disassemble and reassemble a Model T? However many goblins it takes, they were on the job that Halloween evening.
After Halloween, it follows that many inquiries are made concerning the activities which were witnessed the night before. One such inquiry was directed to Richard. His response is graphically displayed below. It appears that Richard is not only taking the fifth amendment, but he is also sending a clear message in reply.
The above pictures are but scratching the surface of a large, personal collection taken throughout my high school years. For those of you who are fearful that you may be unmasked among this huge collection, you are rightfully concerned. I anticipate a lucrative supplement to my retirement income through the sale of pictures to the highest bidder. All inquiries should be directed to firstname.lastname@example.org, giving your name, and the precise nature of your concern. This concern will be duly published only on this website, to enhance the bidding process. If you should fail to heed this warning, you should also know that all unsold pictures will be posted conspicuously in the Wakefield Historical Society Museum. As a further stimulus, you should know that I am one of Wakefield’s homegrown goblins, fully capable of casting an enduring spell upon you, your close associates, and all those possessions you hold dearly. Bid high, but tread carefully!!!