When I think about my most embarrassing holiday moments, one Halloween back in the sixties comes to mind. (Yes, I know this is a Christmas issue, but it's the best I could do!).

 My friend Helen moved to Wallace, Indiana, when I was a freshman in high school. Helen was a sophomore. We rode the same school bus and quickly got to know each other. Helen is very outgoing. In fact, my granddad had a nickname for her. Walkie Talkie.

 Helen got me the first job I ever had. The summer after she moved to Wallace, she started waitressing at the lodge at Turkey Run State Park. Pretty soon, shy and reserved Jeanne who always had her nose in a book, was timidly walking up to tables asking for orders too. I remember getting a standing ovation from the kitchen crew when I dropped a tray full of dishes for the first (and last) time.

"Congratulations! She's a real a waitress now!"

In those days the third floor of Turkey Run Inn was reserved for the waitresses. Helen and I roomed together that summer and on weekends during the fall when school was in session. Supervision was minimal, so we were out and about the grounds and the Inn at all hours, drinking coffee at 2am with the park ranger, or getting a dish of raspberry sherbert from the snack shop.

It was my first taste of freedom and responsibility.

 In the cabins next to the Inn lived the male kitchen help. Helen was always a bit boy crazy, and she had a crush on this twenty-something, tall, blue-eyed German type named Otto who worked in the kitchen. So one evening after the dining room closed, she said to me, "Hey, Jeanne! Let's go soap the guys' windows! They'll never guess who did it!"

 I had already stretched out on my bed in my slip, reading "The Hobbit." A poster of the Monkees hung on the wall under the beginnings of a pop can lid chain. Our uniforms were tossed over the ironing board for the next day.

 "I don't want to do that, Helen. Besides... what if we get caught?"

 "Oh, Jeannie, " Helen put on her most convincing tone, "We won't get caught, I promise. I know how to do this, trust me!"

 That was my first mistake.

 So that Halloween night we crept across the dark courtyard to Otto's cabin.

We could hear the canned laughter coming from the tv set as we cautiously started applying soap to the window pane. All of a sudden, the window flew open, and a man's hand reached out. Helen's and my eyes met briefly in horror, and then like a shotgun blast, we scattered in two different directions!

Helen was smart. She just ran to some bushes and hid behind them. I, on the other hand, dashed across the courtyard into the inn, and ran up three flights of stairs to the safety of our room.

What I wasn't thinking about was that the stair well had very tall windows at each landing. So Otto and his roommate stood in their doorway laughing, as they watched me run up each fllight. Observing all of this, Helen came out from behind the bushes and "surrendered herself to the enemy." She and Otto promptly went off to Sunset Point or some romantic spot.

Meanwhile, back at the room, I realized that there was no Helen. I roused up the rest of the girls and we all went out looking for her with flashlights, thinking the worst. That is until Helen and Otto emerged from behind some trees, holding hands and smiling broadly.

 After that I acquired a new nickname "Track Star," thanks to Otto and his friends.

And to this very day, I still receive a card from Helen on Halloween. The last one said, "Does this card remind you of something that happened at Turkey Run a long time ago?"

Yeah, yeah, rub it in!

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