It turns out Toronto has an impressive history of Halloween hooliganism—much of it involving livestock of various kinds. On one memorable occasion, recounted in a 1913 edition of the Toronto Daily Star, it seems several cows were shooed from the market to City Hall, “where they were left to their own devices.” Swine got in on the fun, too: when a boy was unable to go out with his prankster friends one Halloween, they distracted him from his inevitable FOMO by setting a pig loose in his bedroom.
Email, cell phones, Twitter, and even old-fashioned snail mail mean there are plenty of ways to communicate in the present—but if you want to send a message to the future, there’s only one thing for it: a time capsule. Toronto has been squirreling away all sorts of trinkets in time capsules over the past hundred years. We’ve tucked away everything from newspapers to rock-and-roll albums, from vials of pollutants to peanuts. With their open dates still decades away, we map out a few of Toronto’s time capsules—and let you know what’s inside them.
Everyone get ready to unholster your fake guns—Halloween is here and we expect to see all kinds of creative prop usage. We anticipate cowfolk, gangsters, spies, and more packing “handmade” heat while gorging on candy and chocolate. We’re looking forward to everyone dressing up, living out their fantasies, and having a great time. (I, for one, will be embodying the spirit of Molly Ringwald in my prom-scene Pretty in Pink dress.) Weather be damned, let’s enjoy some fun and fakery tonight—and discount candy tomorrow.