"The Wettest Halloween in 19 Years"

That oddly specific phrase kept popping up on weathercasts and websites in the days leading up to All Hallow's Eve. Weather is of some importance on this day, as you might well imagine--trick-or-treaters and their parents need to know whether their little boys and ghouls need to wear a parka or rain slicker over their costumes. We've even had snow on this day, though (thankfully) not very often.

But rain. Oh yes, we've had rain. 19 years ago today, we had buckets of it.

The odd thing is, I remember that specific Halloween--for reasons that really didn't have much to do with the rain.

It had more to do with Gretchen.

Long before she was Mrs. Fluffy, Gretchen (pictured above in Millennium Park with JB)and I dated for about six months. We broke up formally on Valentine's Day 1995--a shitty memory to have of a day I don't particularly care for anyway--but remained close friends until her passing in April 2011.

Gretchen loved her some Halloween, and we wound up celebrating three or four together--she attended at least a couple of HMBs, including the second one ever (at JB's place) and the first one ever held at the original La Casa del Terror--but only one as a couple.

The forecasters of today don't exaggerate the weather that day in 1994: it was coming down in blinding sheets sweeping out of the north on howling winds. Awesome weather for sitting inside and watching horror films. Horrible weather for doing damn near anything else.

Gretchen and I lived within walking distance of each other then--she in Wicker Park, I in Ukrainian Village--so I hoofed it as fast as my long legs would carry me to her place--which was, unfortunately, north and east of me, so I spent the whole time walking right into the wind. Even my leather motorcycle jacket was no protection against the gale. By the time I got to Gretchen's, I was utterly soaked. Even my underwear needed to be rung out. And it was a cold rain, too--good thing I had a warm apartment (and warmer woman) waiting for me at the end of my trek.

We didn't watch monster movies that night. Instead, we watched the Monsters of the Midway--the Bears were playing the Packers on Monday Night Football. That turned out to be a horror show of a very different kind, with the Bears getting crushed 33-6 by their arch rivals in a sloppy, muddy, bruising mess of a game.

At least Gretchen made dinner--she was a more-than-fair cook--and we had a great evening together, even if the weather and the Bears tried to dampen (see what I did there?) our spirits.

I wish Gretchen were here to celebrate this Halloween--and a lot more Halloweens to follow. But that's not how things worked out.

Still, legend has it that on Halloween, the barriers between the here and the hereafter are at their weakest and spirits can come and go as they please.

If that's the case...hop on by, Gretchen--I've got a fresh, hot bowl of white borscht soup waiting for you and a pumpkin-scented candle to light your way.