Lori Wils photo Halloween 1968 at the Roses’ — Mike in Native American gear, David the little pirate, Karen always the witch, Sailor Mark, baby Lori in red.

Editor’s note: Lori Rose is the sister of regular Friday columnist Karen Rose Wils and a former Daily Press staffer.

ESCANABA — Are you a creamy or a crunchy?

A chocolate or a vanilla?

A Snickers or a Reese’s lover?

These days, it seems like candies and treats are everywhere and come in a bewildering array of flavors and formats. Some companies have even mixed up their classic candies with things like nuts or pretzels to develop the ultimate snack.

When I was a kid, the Hershey bar was a simple slab of milk chocolate divided into nifty little rectangles; today’s bars may include cookies and creme, caramel or other novel additions.

This time of year, my siblings and I looked forward to the annual haul from trick-or-treating and the joy that came with going over each kid’s unique assortment.

Though we were raised in the prosperous Baby Boom years, we Roses looked upon candy as a special treat. My mom did buy sweets — and like many in that era baked endlessly — but found she had to lock away most candies because of sneaky little raiders.

On Halloween, the older Roses got trick-or-treating down to a science, figuring out how many blocks could be covered before dark and where the pleasanter houses were. My big brothers didn’t have dinky little tote bags for collecting… I think they used Mom’s pillow cases.

I tried to keep up with the bigger kids, but my stubby little legs usually gave out before reaching the end of Sheridan Road. When we got home, we looked over our goodies, prioritizing our favorites.

Nothing brings back childhood memories like the smell and feel of a perfect treat, like the sumptuous creaminess of an Ice Cube (remember them?), the sticky, clingy sweetness of wax fangs, or the long-lasting pleasure from a necklace of sugary beads.

Do you remember when they came out with the Chunky bar? Not so nicely named if you fought the calorie battle like me.

At some point in my youth, a company played around with carbonation or a fizzy feeling to produce Pop Rocks, the candy that literally exploded in your mouth.

Some friends of mine were fans of Atomic Fireballs, a gumball-like candy with the eye-watering heat of a habanero.

For a different walk on the wild side, there were the venerable candy cigarettes; also, candy chewing gum shaped like smokes that emitted clouds of sugary dust.

Karen’s all-time favorites were Kit Kat bars and salted nut rolls. If you want to get on her good side, buy her one and I’ll bet it still works!

My brother Dave loved the crunchy, tangy sweetness of malted milk balls.

Brother Mark, who never really met a candy he didn’t like, is partial toward Special Dark chocolate bars and those cloyingly sweet orange circus peanuts. (At Easter time, he loves marshmallow Peeps, especially the ones that are stale and crunchy).

I’m probably most enamored of the good old Almond Joy. Of vintage candies, I’d have to add Bit-O-Honey, Sixlets, the Oh Henry! bar, and those odd little wax bottles of sugary juice.

There are a few folks in my family, few indeed, who could live well enough without candies. My nephew Todd always liked salty or crispy things and my dad is often happy with a fruit and some peanuts.

We’re blessed to live in a town with a classic confectionery like Sayklly’s. Generations have visited there and found delicious treats and handsome and hearty gifts.

So whether you like a thin mint or a foot-long Charleston Chew, you’ll probably find something to your liking this year. Now go and pick up your wrappers so Mom doesn’t have to!

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Karen (Rose) Wils is a lifelong north Escanaba resident. Her folksy columns appear weekly in Lifestyles.