Halloween in 1960s South Philly: Pillowcases, Parish Neighborhoods and Candy Bars

Halloween in South Philly in the 1960s meant homemade costumes, parish neighborhoods, pillowcases full of candy, and familiar faces on nearly every block.

Before you could collect a single piece of Halloween candy, you had to eat dinner.

No ifs, ands, or buts.

And you weren’t going trick-or-treating before dark. That was part of the fun—heading out at night with your friends, wearing a costume you had put together yourself and carrying a pillowcase you hoped to fill.

I was born in 1956, and growing up in South Philly in the 1960s, where you were from often meant which parish you belonged to.

I was from St. Monica’s.

That was our part of South Philly. But I’m sure the Halloween I remember would sound familiar to people from parishes all around us.

Halloween in South Philly’s Parish Neighborhoods

From St. Gabe’s to Annunciation, Holy Spirit to St. Richard’s, Epiphany to Our Lady of Mount Carmel—and all the neighborhoods and streets in between—kids headed out for Halloween.

You might start with a couple of friends, then meet others along the way. Before long, your little group had grown.

Neighbors sat on their front steps waiting for everyone to come around. At many houses, you didn’t even have to ring the bell or knock. People were already outside with their candy.

The parish names and familiar faces changed from neighborhood to neighborhood, but I imagine the routine was much the same: eat dinner, wait for dark, meet your friends, and get going.

A Costume Took Some Imagination

For us, a Halloween costume started with what we could find around the house.

An old sheet became a ghost. An old broom helped complete a witch’s costume. Worn clothes could turn you into what we called a bum or a hobo. You could be a baseball player or a football player, using whatever you had.

We even used the black soot from a burned cork around our eyes to help create a scary face.

We made our costumes. You had to use your imagination and figure out how to make the idea work.

Then you needed something to collect the candy.

We used pillowcases.

No special Halloween bags or shopping bags. A pillowcase did the job—and gave you plenty of room.

Two Houses, One Stop

Halloween in South Philly had its advantages with our small side streets.

On many blocks, the adjoining front steps had what we called a “slide,” the part we used to slide down when we were little. On Halloween, that arrangement meant you could reach two front doors from the same spot.

You could ring both bells at once.

Two houses. One stop.

With roughly 40 houses on some blocks, you could collect a lot of candy without going very far.

Packer Park and Girard Estate took a little more effort. In Packer Park, even where the houses were connected, the steps weren’t joined the same way. In Girard Estate, you had the twins, a space between them and the next pair, and separate trips up the steps.

If you wanted to make the most of your rounds, you stayed on the small streets.

And a full pillowcase didn’t necessarily mean the night was over. With the houses so close together, you could fill it, go home, dump it out, and head back out again.

Sometimes you just needed to make room for another round.

Hershey Bars, Root Beer Barrels, and Three-Cent Lunch Bars

Hershey bars were a familiar part of our Halloween haul—plain milk chocolate or with almonds. Hershey was our Pennsylvania candy connection.

But there was plenty more.

I remember Mallo Cups, Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, Mars bars, M&M’s, Nestlé’s Crunch, Milky Ways, and Clark bars. There were Turkish Taffy, Mary Janes, root beer barrels, Pixy Stix, Sugar Babies, Sugar Daddies, and Jujyfruits.

We got Bazooka chewing gum, Fruit Stripe gum, and even candy cigarettes.

Some houses had boxes of candy bars ready to hand out. Some neighbors gave you pennies. Others gave out caramel corn.

I remember regular candy bars costing a nickel. Five cents.

Then there were “lunch bars,” which I remember costing three cents. Does anyone else remember those?

Penny candy was around, but it wasn’t what I remember getting most often on Halloween. The candy bars stand out most clearly in my memory.

Just listing those names brings back the sorting we did when we got home.

A Stop at St. Monica’s

At some point, a group of us would head over to St. Monica’s rectory.

I remember the nuns giving out what we called apple taffies—candied apples.

That was one of our Halloween stops. Along with the familiar houses and the friends we met on the street, the parish was part of the evening.

When you grew up identifying your neighborhood by its parish, it made sense that the parish would be part of your Halloween memories, too.

No Phones, but Plenty of Familiar Faces

There were no iPhones. Our parents couldn’t look at a screen to see where we were or send a message asking when we were coming home.

But they knew we were in the neighborhood.

We had aunts, uncles, and family friends on every block. The people sitting on the steps weren’t strangers to us. Many knew our parents, knew our families, and recognized us as we made our rounds.

We had the freedom to go out with friends, but we were moving through a neighborhood full of familiar faces.

You knew the neighborhood, and the neighborhood knew you.

Home Again: Parents First, Then the Candy Bowls

Whether you were stopping home to empty your pillowcase or coming back at the end of the night, bringing candy into the house didn’t mean you could start eating it.

Our parents checked everything first.

Even when I was young, we heard warnings about razor blades in apples. I also remember hospitals offering to X-ray Halloween candy—Methodist and St. Agnes are the ones that come to mind, although I couldn’t tell you exactly what year that started.

What I can tell you is that, in our house, you waited until your parents had gone through everything.

Then you and your brothers and sisters got down to sorting.

Out came the bowls. You separated the candy by type: Hershey bars together, Reese’s Cups together, Mallo Cups together, and so on.

After carrying everything around in a pillowcase, you could finally see what you had collected.

And there was one more thing to look forward to: we had the next day off from Catholic school for All Saints’ Day.

That made Halloween night even better.

That’s the Halloween in South Philly I Remember

I’m sure families across South Philly’s parishes had their own versions of these nights—their favorite stops, their homemade costumes, and their bowls of candy at home.

For me, it’s the small details that bring it all back.

Waiting until dinner was finished. Waiting for dark. Taking a pillowcase instead of a Halloween bag. Reaching two doors from one set of steps. Meeting more friends along the way and heading over to St. Monica’s.

Then coming home with everything we had collected, waiting for our parents to check it, and sorting it with our brothers and sisters.

And sometimes, before the night was over, heading back out with an empty pillowcase.

What do you remember about Halloween in South Philly? Which parish were you from? Did you make your own costume and carry a pillowcase? What candy were you happiest to find when you emptied it?

And please tell me someone else remembers those three-cent lunch bars.

Share your memories in the comments, and explore more stories on our Philadelphia Nostalgia page.