The coronavirus pandemic has cancelled most of 2020. Sports leagues postponed to late summer, theatrical productions cancelled or fading to virtual shows. Community festivals 86’d because they might—gasp—draw a crowd.

All of that was bad enough, but then I saw a headline that made me bare my fangs, draw out my claws and look around to see where I’d left my book of incantations. Los Angeles County had plans to cancel Halloween.

Cancel Halloween? We’ve already had to deal with a pandemic, a summer of riots and looting and nasty hurricanes. Are the Californians now hoping to eclipse all that by threatening to open a portal to hell?

Sure enough, the county’s health department was saying there would be no Halloween parties, no trick-or-treating, no carnivals and no haunted houses. Officials were saying that these events would make social distancing very difficult, if not impossible, so it’s better to just tell all the folks who bought their costumes in June, July or maybe at the post-Halloween sales last year that they have to be themselves and barricade themselves in their homes.

I took one look at that and thought a demon really was going to possess me. First of all, we’ve already endured six months of events and even life as we know ground to a screeching halt, but then to have one of the more fun holidays in this country be wiped out for 2020 on top of everything? Officials might as well put a collective pillow over our faces.

Fortunately, I tend to look at more than one publication when I uncover news that gets a reaction out of me. It seems that it only took a day for the health department to see the light—or maybe in this case, the darkness—and backpedal on its plans to cancel the unholiest of holidays. Now, trick-or-treating, which was going to be banned, is now just “not recommended.”

That’s just one county, though. There are thousands of counties and countless municipalities that make up the great United States of America, and it’s likely that some of those government officials might opt to pick up where Los Angeles County and inform people that they are stupid to make their own decisions when it comes to Halloween and celebrating said holiday. It’s only September, after all.

The reason government officials are even considering cancelling the holiday for the sake of our health is that the holiday has already had government interference of a sort. In the last 20 or so years, most communities have set trick-or-treating hours, usually in the light of day when there’s less risk that a vehicle driving on a neighborhood road might run over an unsuspecting goblin that didn’t look both ways before stepping out into the road.

That wasn’t the case when I was a child. I remember my mother taking me out in costume under the cover of darkness to walk in neighborhoods in Chino Valley to entice candy from people. I even remember a couple of years going into nearby Prescott to walk on Mount Vernon Street, which has some of the most beautiful historic homes in the community, to seek goodies.

Then I became an adult and a journalist, and I reported on trick-or-treating being reduced to two or three hours. Neighborhood streets became more congested as time was limited to get all the goodies in the bag possible.

Perhaps, instead of cancelling trick-or-treating this year, government officials should lift the limited hours. We’re all fully aware of the coronavirus and the threat it poses on the world, but we’re also aware that Halloween is one day—24 hours. Let the folks handing out the candy set their own hours. Let the families with children make the decision to take them out when and where they feel it’s safe.

One year, I got sick when Halloween came around. Instead of trick-or-treating, I stayed home, and my mother introduced me to scary movies. It was a fun alternative, but it was one my mother got to make on her own without the government pre-assuming she was a moron or too stupid to make her own decisions.

Los Angeles County—nay, all the counties, cities, towns and villages—should realize that, as well. The folks who fear contracting the virus are going to stay home. For those of us who can figure out not to power dive into a crowd, let us figure out social distancing for ourselves, and we’ll still come home with a bag full of goodies.