Several years ago, as a young and curious San Antonio Express-News police reporter investigating occult crimes, I became the guest of a group of Texas-based Wiccans. 

They allowed me to witness their moonlit Samhain observance in an isolated oak grove — candles, Athame (a ceremonial blade), hoods, cloaks and all — to demonstrate they merely honored the seasons, nature and nothing more. 

My tie and the coattails of my London Fog flapped in the wind while I silently watched this very solemn religious ceremony. 

The ritual, which tradition says marks the day when the veils grow thin between the worlds and departed ancestors are permitted to visit their loved ones, harkened back to the traditions of my own Celtic ancestors, before the Roman Empire began to christianize Great Britain. 

Samhain is the start of the Celtic new year. It marks the end of the harvest.

Today’s Halloween comes from the efforts of the Holy Roman Catholic Church to blend the Christian All Hallow’s Eve with Samhain. 

Though a steadfast member of the worldwide Anglican Communion, I came away with a newfound understanding that pagan traditions don’t equate with Satanism or ritualistic violence, which I had written about concerning other cases. 

The experience taught me that bell, book and candle aren’t necessarily the signs of  a crime. 

No criminal enterprise occurred, no laws were broken and the Wiccans paid a fair lease for the land from a sympathetic — and Christian — Texas Hill Country rancher.

It also made for another great front-page story, with the blessing of my editor Jesse Clements. 

Not surprisingly, there followed angry letters from some readers who didn’t think the paper should have promoted “witchcraft.” 

These days, anytime I see a bumper sticker that says “Blessed Be,” I smile a little.