A gran-d fright night with family's queen of ghosts

TRICK or treat? Those three little words fill me with excitement and concern as we look ahead to next Friday's Halloween merriment.

- Ken Rogers

I'm from that age group when this October 31st celebration was simply referred to as 'Duck Apple Night'.

In a correct sense, Halloween is the eve of the Christian festival of All Hallows or All Saints Day, although its roots stem back to Celtic times and the Pagan festival of Samhain, marking the end of harvest days as the darker winter nights closed in.

Of course, mass commerciali-sation has hijacked Halloween, inspired by American retailers who gleefully record that it injects up to $8 billion dollars a year into the US economy.

Last year, Brits were said to have spent £776 million on costumes, decorations and the like.

I will therefore not be surprised if the Grim Reaper, supported by witches, zombies, vampires and a couple of skeleton mates, come knocking on my door on Friday evening.

The creepier the better, as far as I'm concerned.

My late father, Harry, told a famous family story relating to my grandma, Emily Rogers, a character who always made me smile.

The family lived in Everton's Copeland Street, their cramped terraced houses dating back to the late 1800s.