Time for some time traveling.
Let’s visit the years1956 to 1968.
Let’s take a ride when cars had no seat belts, when my siblings and I were crawling all over the station wagon while Dad drove us to Pennsylvania and Mom deposited dirty diapers into a covered pail.
Let’s go to a time when the meanest playground in the world offered thrills and danger: a high slide, roundabouts, self-propelled merry-go-rounds, and seesaws.
Let’s visit the years1956 to 1968.
Let’s take a ride when cars had no seat belts, when my siblings and I were crawling all over the station wagon while Dad drove us to Pennsylvania and Mom deposited dirty diapers into a covered pail.
Let’s go to a time when the meanest playground in the world offered thrills and danger: a high slide, roundabouts, self-propelled merry-go-rounds, and seesaws.
Let’s return to those summer mornings when our moms released us right after breakfast, commanded us to be back for lunch and supper—my mom summoned us with a loud bell—and we ran all over the neighborhood and half the town without adult supervision.
Let’s visit those evenings when tank trucks drove through the neighborhood spraying DDT to kill mosquitos and youngsters ran and danced and whooped in the fog they released.
Let’s plunk ourselves down in that movie theater, where we kids went alone to the flicks and walked home after dark. (Okay, okay, we ran past the cemetery.)
Let’s sit again in living rooms sucking in second hand cigarette smoke for hours at a time.
Let’s revisit an era when the only healthy beverages for children were milk, water, and orange juice.
Let’s relish those meals we used to eat: eggs and bacon for breakfast, baloney sandwiches for lunch, and lots of fried foods and potatoes for supper.
Let’s eat some of that fatback the school cafeteria served up along with cornbread and pinto beans. (You could still see tiny hog hairs on the rind. By the way, fatback was the most popular dish in the place. Kids used to walk as fast as they could—they weren’t permitted to run—when trays of this delicacy appeared. I have never found any way of duplicating that delicious blend of salt and fat. Ah, well.)
Let’s take a look at those days when if you got into trouble at school, you were paddled, and you knew it would be even worse if your parents found out.
Let’s step into that schoolyard when recess meant wrestling and fistfights, dodge ball, and violent games of Red Rover.
Let’s join a bunch of boys eight and ten years old who are blowing up M-80s, cherry bombs, and strings of firecrackers, experimenting with gasoline and matches, shooting off BB guns, waging innumerable dirt clod battles, and killing copperhead snakes with sticks and rocks, all without an adult in sight.
Let’s go to the neighborhood swimming pool, where kids are doing cannonballs and flips off a high diving board.
Let’s look again at televisions when there were only three channels and the term “video game” would have left those within listening distance scratching their heads.
Let’s hop into a canoe with two boys, ages fourteen and twelve, who are pushing off on a two-day trip down the Yadkin River by themselves.
Let’s walk with that sixteen year old who snagged a summertime job in the operating room and recovery room of a local hospital, carried an amputated leg wrapped up like a Christmas stocking to the lab, watched various operations, and spent a good deal of time moping up blood and wiping up vomit, all without having PTSD.
Great balls of fire! How did any of us survive?
Let’s visit those evenings when tank trucks drove through the neighborhood spraying DDT to kill mosquitos and youngsters ran and danced and whooped in the fog they released.
Let’s plunk ourselves down in that movie theater, where we kids went alone to the flicks and walked home after dark. (Okay, okay, we ran past the cemetery.)
Let’s sit again in living rooms sucking in second hand cigarette smoke for hours at a time.
Let’s revisit an era when the only healthy beverages for children were milk, water, and orange juice.
Let’s relish those meals we used to eat: eggs and bacon for breakfast, baloney sandwiches for lunch, and lots of fried foods and potatoes for supper.
Let’s eat some of that fatback the school cafeteria served up along with cornbread and pinto beans. (You could still see tiny hog hairs on the rind. By the way, fatback was the most popular dish in the place. Kids used to walk as fast as they could—they weren’t permitted to run—when trays of this delicacy appeared. I have never found any way of duplicating that delicious blend of salt and fat. Ah, well.)
Let’s take a look at those days when if you got into trouble at school, you were paddled, and you knew it would be even worse if your parents found out.
Let’s step into that schoolyard when recess meant wrestling and fistfights, dodge ball, and violent games of Red Rover.
Let’s join a bunch of boys eight and ten years old who are blowing up M-80s, cherry bombs, and strings of firecrackers, experimenting with gasoline and matches, shooting off BB guns, waging innumerable dirt clod battles, and killing copperhead snakes with sticks and rocks, all without an adult in sight.
Let’s go to the neighborhood swimming pool, where kids are doing cannonballs and flips off a high diving board.
Let’s look again at televisions when there were only three channels and the term “video game” would have left those within listening distance scratching their heads.
Let’s hop into a canoe with two boys, ages fourteen and twelve, who are pushing off on a two-day trip down the Yadkin River by themselves.
Let’s walk with that sixteen year old who snagged a summertime job in the operating room and recovery room of a local hospital, carried an amputated leg wrapped up like a Christmas stocking to the lab, watched various operations, and spent a good deal of time moping up blood and wiping up vomit, all without having PTSD.
Great balls of fire! How did any of us survive?