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Every October, parents sort through trick-or-treat hauls like bomb squads. Some towns even offer to X-ray the candy, and one New Jersey mayor once banned trick-or-treating outright.
The fear is that strangers hide poison or razor blades in treats. It feels so familiar that few people stop to ask who the strangers actually were.
Sociologist Joel Best of the University of Delaware has tracked these reports since 1958. He says he cannot find a single case of a child killed by a contaminated treat from a stranger.
Best has seen five news stories that blamed deaths on Halloween poisoning. Four were retracted, which leaves one case that is far darker than the legend.
In 1974, eight-year-old Timothy O'Bryan died in Texas after eating a cyanide-laced Pixy Stix. The poisoner was his own father, who handed out more Pixy Stix to other kids to point blame at a stranger.
The panic keeps resurfacing anyway. In 2022, fentanyl rumors spread across the country, yet Best says the number of confirmed fentanyl-in-Halloween-candy cases in the US that year was zero.
Best adds one honest caveat: you can't prove a negative, so he can never prove that no child was ever harmed. Still, after decades of looking, the shadowy candy poisoner remains missing.












