The Great Teenage Mutant Easter Hunt

If you were to ask adults what the meaning of Easter is the answers would probably follow along the same lines: rejoicing, family togetherness, church and observance of the resurrection of Jesus Christ. But for children the holiday is about one thing and one thing only: Candy. Every year children look forward to the Chocolate eggs, Caramel Rabbits, and little plastic bunnies that poop chocolate covered caramel eggs when you push them.

My memories of Easters of my childhood were the same as probably any other child in the '80s. They would begin early in the morning with either my brother or I waking the other up to run down stairs to see what sorts of candies the Easter Bunny had left us over the night. Of course before we could dig into the delicious Cadbury Cream Eggs my Mom would pry the baskets out of our grubby little hands and have us cleanup for mass at St. Genevieve's. After mass my brother and I would dig into the candies like ravenous vultures going in for the kill. Every year our parents tried to downplay the candy side of Easter by presenting each of us with a small gift in our baskets as well. The presents were nothing big, maybe a favorite action figure or possibly some hot wheels cars.

For much of my childhood this would hold true. That is with the exception of Easter of 1987. By 1987 my main interest was one thing: Ninja Turtles. Actually, calling them interests would be drastically underselling them. By the age of 6 nearly everything I owned had either a picture of Raphael or Donatello on it. Obviously this obsession was not lost on my parents.

Easter had started as it had nearly every year prior with my brother and I rushing down stairs to the living room and finding our present sitting on top of the candy and slightly buried in the plastic pink and green grass. This year my present had been April O'Neal, channel 3's intrepid reporter and friend to the green heroes as my brother got a new truck. As we began to settle in with our new toys our Dad pointed out the stick note on the packages. The one on April's box simply read: 'BEDROOM'.

Curiously I entered my bedroom and searched around for a few minutes. Then I saw it, its clear packaging sticking from under the tossed covers. Casey Jones. My heart skipped as I saw yet another note stuck to the box as I soon realized the Easter hunt was on. For the next hour our parents guided my brother around the house as we searched for the gifts left for us by the Easter Bunny. What had we done to curry such favor? I didn't know now did I care. All I wondered was how I would get Rocksteady down from the top on the linen closet.

In all I had received seven new figures to add to my collection and memories of an Easter I'll never forget. As for the figures themselves, I still have them 24 years later. They stand as a constant reminder of times when life was simply about fun and innocence of childhood.