Turns out, there is a wrong way to eat a Reese’s
Halloween is my favorite holiday. I love the mystery and folklore that surrounds the day. Everyone has their own personal boogeyman. Maybe it’s Freddy, Candyman, or a Pillowcase Man made up by your older brother? Well, readers, the folklore legend surrounding the Candy Lady makes those terrors seem almost pedestrian. Grab yourself some Milk Duds; it’s story time.
It’s hard to say which child discovered it first, but the kids of Terrell, TX began receiving gifts of candy. Someone would creep up to their
windows at night while they were sleeping and leave a piece of candy on their windowsill. Like a deranged Willy Wonka. The kids had no idea where the candy came from, but it being 1903 and kids being kids, they didn’t ask too many questions. And they also didn’t tell their parents.
The gifts of candy kept coming. Eventually, though, the stranger began leaving notes, asking the kids to “come play”. Still, no one told their parents. You see, the candy was good and the handwriting was pretty, the notes couldn’t possibly be nefarious. And, of course, the children were too young to remember Clara.
Clara Crane was convicted of murdering her husband in 1885 after their daughter, Marcy, died in a tragic accident while in her father’s care. Clara never forgave him, and never recovered from their lose. She did what any grieving prairie wife would do; she cooked up a batch of poisonous caramel and let him eat his fill.
She plead grief-related insanity and was institutionalized for four years, which just doesn’t seem like long enough. There is no record of her after her 1889 release, but loads of people believe she came back home to Terrell.
Then, in 1903, the children started to disappear. Finally, a little boy told his mother the truth about the candy, and the townsfolk just knew it was Clara. The old farm was repeatedly searched, but there was never a trace of Clara – or anyone else – found on the property.
One crisp, autumn morning, Jeb Smith was working his fields when he noticed something glinting in the sunlight. When he went to investigate, he found no fewer than ten candy wrappers on the ground. He picked them up, discovering they were not empty, but each wrapper held small teeth. Jeb immediately died of fright. No, he didn’t. I would have, but Jeb was brave. He ran for the sheriff.
The sheriff had been working himself to the bone trying to find the missing children, swearing to find the monster responsible. Unfortunately, the monster found him first. The sheriff’s body was later found, his pockets stuffed with candy.
And then it ended. No more children disappeared after that day. Was the sheriff enough to satisfy the candy lady? Had Clara gone completely mad? Was it something else entirely? Much like the age-old Tootsie Pop question, the world may never know.
What we do know is, life returned to normal in Terrell, TX. Children stopped receiving window candy, and parents could breathe a sigh of relief. But the Candy Lady legend lives on.
Contributor: Sarah Holland