TO ALL THE KIDS WHO SURVIVED the 1930's, 40's, 50's, 60's and 70's!!

[Driver62]

Where do I start? I grew up in the late 40's and early 50's.
We had sandlot baseball. The city would pay the high school baseball coach to run the thing and we played Mon-Fri every morning for three hours. Everyone who showed up played. Some days we had 15 on a team and others only 6 or 7. When we were short a few players, a hit to right field was an out. You were also out if you hit 2 foul balls.

One day we were outside playing and heard a strange sound. All us kids ran into the street to look. It was a diesel train engine. We'd never seen one before. All the trains we knew had steam engines.

If you wanted to go somewhere, you rode your bike or walked. I was riding down a hill one time and crashed into the back of a parked car. I went over the roof and hood. I was all scraped up and when I got home, my Mom just bandaged me up and said be more careful next time.

Each year at the county fair we had a auto thrill show. A bunch of us kids decided to do the same with our bikes. We set up ramps on cinder blocks in the back yard and tried to jump ramp to ramp with our bikes. I had the ramps too far apart and hit the the landing ramp in the front. I went head over heels and we just shortened the distance and did it again. It's amazing we survived our younger years.

We did other things like chewing grass pretending we were chewing tobacco and playing cowboys and indians with our cap pistols. I also had my Red Ryder BB gun taken away from me by my father for shooting out the windows in the barn. I saw them do it in a western movie so I thought it was OK.(lol)

There were a lot more things we did back then but this post is getting too long.

Just wanted to share.

By the way, there was no TV back then. We listened to the radio. I loved listening to the Lone Ranger.

[Roy Tucker]

Actually, stitches and broken bones were fairly common back then too.

With 3 boys, my mom was on a first-name basis with the ER docs. She used to say "if I don't see a bone sticking out or arterial blood spurting, you're OK".

For fun, we used to jump off my parent's house and pretend we were paratroopers. Probably a 12 ft. jump.

[Johnny Footstool]

Here's something else that we luckily weren't subjected to back in the day:

http://www.oregonlive.com/news/orego...l=7&thispage=1

The two boys tore down the hall of Patton Middle School after lunch, swatting the bottoms of girls as they ran -- what some kids later said was a common form of greeting.

But bottom-slapping is against policy in McMinnville Public Schools. So a teacher's aide sent the gawky seventh-graders to the office, where the vice principal and a police officer stationed at the school soon interrogated them.

After hours of interviews with students the day of the February incident, the officer read the boys their Miranda rights and hauled them off in handcuffs to juvenile jail, where they spent the next five days.

Now, Cory Mashburn and Ryan Cornelison, both 13, face the prospect of 10 years in juvenile detention and a lifetime on the sex offender registry in a case that poses a fundamental question: When is horseplay a crime?

Bradley Berry, the McMinnville district attorney, said his office "aggressively" pursues sex crimes that involve children. "These cases are devastating to children," he said. "They are life-altering cases."

Last year, in a previously undisclosed prosecution, he charged two other Patton Middle School boys with felony sex abuse for repeatedly slapping the bottom of a female student. Both pleaded guilty to harassment, which is a misdemeanor. Berry declined to discuss his cases against Mashburn and Cornelison.

The boys and their parents say Berry has gone far beyond what is necessary, criminalizing actions that they acknowledge were inappropriate. School district officials said Friday they had addressed the incident by suspending the students for five days.

The outlines of the case have been known. But confidential police reports and juvenile court records shed new light on the context of the boys' actions. The records show that other students, boys and girls, were slapping one another's bottoms. Two of the girls identified as victims have recanted, saying they felt pressured and gave false statements to interrogators.

The documents also show that the boys face 10 misdemeanor charges -- five sex abuse counts, five harassment counts -- reduced from initial charges of felony sex abuse. The boys are scheduled to go on trial Aug. 20.

A leading expert called the case a "travesty of justice" that is part of a growing trend in which children as young as 8 are being labeled sexual predators in juvenile court, where documents and proceedings are often secret.

Not to belittle anyone here whose life was dramatically changed in junior high because someone patted you on the butt, but seriously...the kids were ARRESTED?

Hyper-litigation will be the downfall of our society.

[LincolnparkRed]

Here's something else that we luckily weren't subjected to back in the day:

http://www.oregonlive.com/news/orego...l=7&thispage=1



Not to belittle anyone here whose life was dramatically changed in junior high because someone patted you on the butt, but seriously...the kids were ARRESTED?

Hyper-litigation will be the downfall of our society.

I have a 15 month old boy and I can't wait to tell him that he can't fight kids that pick on him or their parents will sue and he can't horseplay with girls because of things like this.

[griffeyfreak4]

Hey, cut us some slack. Not all of the good ole days are lost. I live right near the forest preserve (yes they need to be preserved) and I am a walking talking living monkey. Yes, I have fallen out of trees, been scratched, even bitten by a HUGE snapping turtle (ouch!) but I am ok.

However, I live in a wealthy neighborhood so everyone has cell phones, cameras, and all the what not. Ridiculous.

Capture the flag is the neighborhood game of choice, and riding my bike all the way across town to get to practice is expected to save gas.

The tree fort we are currently building is about 30 feet in a tree, and on the verge of collapsing. The zip line we built to get down is waaay to steep, but who cares about bruises and blood?. it's fun!

Television is only for when you are sick, and movies are a rarity. They're just too long for me to sit there and do nothing. The internet is for RedsZone and that's about all.

Mom is not to be bothered unless someone is dying, even if there is blood (you're just not allowed to get it on the carpet).

Bottle Rocket fights are a lot of fun, and avoiding the police is a game.

Oh, and finally, the other day my neighbor was riding his bike too fast over a speed bump in the parking lot across the street. His wheel fell off, and he landed with the bar in between his legs. He got 14 stitches on his ball sack, and tried to go over the bump again when he got home.

Not all is lost, have faith my friends.

[Falls City Beer]

Hey, cut us some slack. Not all of the good ole days are lost. I live right near the forest preserve (yes they need to be preserved) and I am a walking talking living monkey. Yes, I have fallen out of trees, been scratched, even bitten by a HUGE snapping turtle (ouch!) but I am ok.

However, I live in a wealthy neighborhood so everyone has cell phones, cameras, and all the what not. Ridiculous.

Capture the flag is the neighborhood game of choice, and riding my bike all the way across town to get to practice is expected to save gas.

The tree fort we are currently building is about 30 feet in a tree, and on the verge of collapsing. The zip line we built to get down is waaay to steep, but who cares about bruises and blood?. it's fun!

Television is only for when you are sick, and movies are a rarity. They're just too long for me to sit there and do nothing. The internet is for RedsZone and that's about all.

Mom is not to be bothered unless someone is dying, even if there is blood (you're just not allowed to get it on the carpet).

Bottle Rocket fights are a lot of fun, and avoiding the police is a game.

Oh, and finally, the other day my neighbor was riding his bike too fast over a speed bump in the parking lot across the street. His wheel fell off, and he landed with the bar in between his legs. He got 14 stitches on his ball sack, and tried to go over the bump again when he got home.

Not all is lost, have faith my friends.

I think there's wisdom in what you're saying. My two daughters are as rough-and-tumble as they come.

[vaticanplum]

I was thinking along the same lines early in the thread when people were talking about all the mischief they were getting into that their parents didn't know about. I've no doubt at all that today's kids are pulling the same dangerous stunts, and the same wool over the eyes


Also -- the kids on my old street in Brooklyn played stickball all spring, summer and fall long until their moms would shout at them (often in Spanish) to get in the house at dark. Sometimes they'd ask us for money to get a slice of pizza at the corner joint or a soda at the bodega. One of the biggest cities in the world, 21st century, and sometimes you'd never know it wasn't 1955. Those kids are almost as responsible for me being a Yankees fan as anything else, I think. Anyway, rest assured, kids still play baseball in the street. And pick-me-up games at the neighborhood park, too. There was a kid at the park that my roommate and I were nuts about. Pale, scrawny, strawberry blond hair, a painfully disfigured jaw, the kind you know is going to warrant a headgear in the very near future; he was about 7-10 years old. He played baseball at the park with some of the neighborhood kids and was totally bullied by all of them, they used to make fun of him in Spanish, and he'd just be quiet and eager and they'd make him run into the outfield. It took about ten minutes of watching them play the first time before I realized why they let him: the kid could hit. He could field, too, if anything every bothered to come at him. But he hit everything, hard and/or high, and was always just so obviously happy to be playing no matter what he had to go through to get there. I'd also see him occasionally walking through the neighborhood, either with his mom (redhead) who was very short, or his dad (redhead) who was about six foot four. Usually when he was with his dad he was carrying a bat and glove. True story. I adored this kid. His name was Michael (or "Miguel" as the neighborhood kids often called him).

[SunDeck]

When I moved back to Cincinnati in '98 I would run near the same sandlots I grew up playing on. There was a group of about 15 of us that played on those fields every day in the summer, from morning until dusk. That was back in the 70's. Sadly, I didn't see any kids playing ball on those fields once when I returned.
They weren't far away, though. There were six hoops on the playground and I always saw kids playing there. It was just the other way around when I was growing up.

[GAC]

I have a 15 month old boy and I can't wait to tell him that he can't fight kids that pick on him or their parents will sue and he can't horseplay with girls because of things like this.

My son just graduated, but when he was in the 6th grade there were a couple of boys that liked to pick on him at recess time. They kept knocking his glasses off and trying to crunch them.

Now my son is a big kid. And I have always taught my kids that when at school you respect authority and avoid violence. And if a kid is pulling stuff like this, and glasses aren't cheap mind you - this kid had broken them once before - you need to go to that teacher who is monitoring the playground. My son was (repeatedly). The teacher would tell him that nobody likes a tattle-tale, blow him off, and would do nothing about it.

I was furious. I knew the Principal, who is a good guy. I went in and talked to him, explained the situation and what was going on with this other boy. I told him about the teacher who wouldn't do anything about it when my son went to her. I then informed the Principal that if my son, or any kid for that matter, cannot come to an adult "authority" and get anything done, then I have informed my son that the next time this kid comes at you and tries to destroy your glasses, then you defend yourself - DECK HIM! And I'll be at the school not only defending you, but also reminding the Principal of the conversation we had prior.

It wasn't two weeks later that it happened. The kid came after my son while they were at recess playing basketball. My son planted that basketball right between his eyes and busted his nose right there on the blacktop court. We all had to meet at the Principal's office and "have a talk", and nothing came from it other than that kid never messed with my son again.

[gm]

Who remembers ripping off their pop-top and dropping it into the can?

In the '80s "War Games" movie Matthew Broderick finds a pop-top tab on the ground near a phone booth and uses it to short the phone receiver to get a dial tone. I had to explain to my kids what "it" was that he was using (and that there's no way the aluminum tab would do what he did--so don't try it, etc)

[Falls City Beer]

In the '80s "War Games" movie Matthew Broderick finds a pop-top tab on the ground near a phone booth and uses it to short the phone receiver to get a dial tone. I had to explain to my kids what "it" was that he was using (and that there's no way the aluminum tab would do what he did--so don't try it, etc)

Your grandkids will want to know what a "pay phone" is.

[gm]

My mom had one made of Bud cans.

Even at age 4, I knew it was utterly ludicrous.

Those hanging beer can airplanes are pretty cool, though

[RollyInRaleigh]

My son just graduated, but when he was in the 6th grade there were a couple of boys that liked to pick on him at recess time. They kept knocking his glasses off and trying to crunch them.

Now my son is a big kid. And I have always taught my kids that when at school you respect authority and avoid violence. And if a kid is pulling stuff like this, and glasses aren't cheap mind you - this kid had broken them once before - you need to go to that teacher who is monitoring the playground. My son was (repeatedly). The teacher would tell him that nobody likes a tattle-tale, blow him off, and would do nothing about it.

I was furious. I knew the Principal, who is a good guy. I went in and talked to him, explained the situation and what was going on with this other boy. I told him about the teacher who wouldn't do anything about it when my son went to her. I then informed the Principal that if my son, or any kid for that matter, cannot come to an adult "authority" and get anything done, then I have informed my son that the next time this kid comes at you and tries to destroy your glasses, then you defend yourself - DECK HIM! And I'll be at the school not only defending you, but also reminding the Principal of the conversation we had prior.

It wasn't two weeks later that it happened. The kid came after my son while they were at recess playing basketball. My son planted that basketball right between his eyes and busted his nose right there on the blacktop court. We all had to meet at the Principal's office and "have a talk", and nothing came from it other than that kid never messed with my son again.

Classic, GAC. It happened to me in second grade. A kid was picking on me unmercifully. I was a good sized kid, but very meek at that point. My dad told me that the only way to remedy the situation was to stick up for myself, punch the kid, and put an end to it. It happend. I punched the kid, right in the mouth and left him crying in a ditch beside the playground when the bell rang. I started to run into the school, but then went back and told the kid that if he told the teacher, it would happen again. He never told on me, and never picked on me again. Matter of fact, he became a real good friend of mine, although he was not the "sharpest knife in the drawer." Later, in 9th grade, we were playing our arch rivals in a Junior High football game. I played quarterback and was running to the sideline for a first down after a pass play had broken down. One of the opponents hit me, very late, out of bounds and the kid that I had punched in second grade came running up to me while I was running back to the huddle and said, Don't worry, Randy, I'll get him." In one of the funniest things that I have ever seen in my life in sports, he proceeded to run into the opposing team's huddle and kicked the offender, hard, right in the seat of the pants and started a big fight.(I still laugh as I think about it) He was thrown out of the game and suspended from school for 10 days.

A punch thrown in second grade created a great loyalty between he and I. There was nothing that young man would not do for me, and every time I run into him when traveling home, he always comes up to me, smiling and saying, "Randy, you remember when...........................

[Yachtzee]

Classic, GAC. It happened to me in second grade. A kid was picking on me unmercifully. I was a good sized kid, but very meek at that point. My dad told me that the only way to remedy the situation was to stick up for myself, punch the kid, and put an end to it. It happend. I punched the kid, right in the mouth and left him crying in a ditch beside the playground when the bell rang. I started to run into the school, but then went back and told the kid that if he told the teacher, it would happen again. He never told on me, and never picked on me again. Matter of fact, he became a real good friend of mine, although he was not the "sharpest knife in the drawer." Later, in 9th grade, we were playing our arch rivals in a Junior High football game. I played quarterback and was running to the sideline for a first down after a pass play had broken down. One of the opponents hit me, very late, out of bounds and the kid that I had punched in second grade came running up to me while I was running back to the huddle and said, Don't worry, Randy, I'll get him." In one of the funniest things that I have ever seen in my life in sports, he proceeded to run into the opposing team's huddle and kicked the offender, hard, right in the seat of the pants and started a big fight.(I still laugh as I think about it) He was thrown out of the game and suspended from school for 10 days.

A punch thrown in second grade created a great loyalty between he and I. There was nothing that young man would not do for me, and every time I run into him when traveling home, he always comes up to me, smiling and saying, "Randy, you remember when...........................

That sounds pretty much like how I made friends in 4th grade. I had just transferred from the Catholic school to the public school and the first week, all the kids were claiming to have beat me up. When it started coming out that no one had so much as laid a finger on me, the next week was "fight week." Three kids picked fights with me, 2 kids ended up with bloody noses and one got a knee to the groin only because he had two other kids holding my arms. I ended up friends with all of them.