Fifty years ago, at age ten, I would go 40 blocks by myself from home to Beers Book Store and buy a grocery bag full of science fiction paperback books. I could have taken the bus, but that took 15¢—or three books—each way, so I walked. I had a bicycle, but balancing a bag full of books didn’t work well. Besides, I’d have to ride in the streets, and traffic on H and J Streets in Sacramento then was terrifying.
After buying my books, I had the clerk hold my bag—minus one I really wanted to start reading—and walk another ten blocks from 14th to about 4th to Harvey’s Hamburger’s to begin reading over a lunch of a burger, fries and a milkshake for 67¢.
On the way back, I’d pick up my bag of books, stop at the Hobby Shop at 16th and J Streets to drool over the brass HO locomotives ($150-$1000) and remote-control aircraft. and then walk home to 54th Street. I’d be gone from 9am to about 3pm.
Mom’s only interest was to check what books I got.
From the age of seven, several other neighborhood kids and I played in the large vacant lot at 53rd and F Streets where Sutter Memorial Hospital and Sutter Medical Offices stand today. All the kids referred to it just as “The Lot.” We built grass mazes, forts, did treasure hunts, had rock fights with our own rules the rocks couldn’t be larger than a half inch in diameter, so they couldn’t hurt when you got hit. The only time any parents got involved was when some older kids (from the North Neighborhood (Junior High aged) decided we were good targets for their BB guns. A dad (not one of ours) who lived right across the street came over, all upright and stern, and put a stop to it, confiscated three BB guns, which were later returned to the boys’ parents, all three of whom were summarily spanked by their dads. We were back at The Lot the next day but the BB gun boys weren’t seen until they were off grounding, then they came and apologized.
Other days, we’d go to East Portal Park, to play in the playground. . . or walk 14 blocks with a bag lunch, dime and towel to McKinley Park to go to Clunie Pool to swim and borrow books from Clunie Library.
One day, my year older sister (at five) decided to run away with two little neighbor girls after being told she couldn’t have some toy she wanted. They packed some dolls, a loaf of bread, peanut butter and jam, a knife (Oh, my), took my little red wagon, and headed off. Mom knew what they were up to because my sister had announced her intentions. . . so she kept a distant eye on them. She followed their trek in the car, keeping back about a block. They were making PB&J sandwiches before they reached the end of the block.
They got an amazing mile and a half into River Park before deciding they had to turn back. Mom still followed. She turned into the driveway of our house before they turned onto our block and went into the house. When my very tired sister came in the house, extremely upset, she cried, “Why didn’t you come after me?”
Mom answered, “Oh, were you gone?” My sister never tried that little drama again.
I was a Cub Scout. . . and all good scouts needed a pocket knife with all the tools. In third grade I paid $1.75 through a school program and soon, along with the other pack members in my class, about ten of us, had my Boy Scout pocket knife duly delivered by my teacher. We all proudly carried our knives to school every day. It was really strange. No body got killed, stabbed, or even cut. We must have been an aberration.
Greta stories!
Wish there were an FR thread where folks could add their childhood recollections. I so enjoy reading them.
That was an enjoyable read!
Great stories! Similar to my childhood..WHO wanted to be in the house? How boring (plus Mom might make me do chores or something)!
I grew up on a farm and was an “outside” kid for my entire childhood. As a toddler in the baby swimming pool my black lab “Blackie” stood guard and pulled me up by my little swimsuit straps if I fell over as my Mom watched from the kitchen window (I think she was watching...LOL). Got kicked in the face by my pony when I was about three...got over it.
Training wheels came off the bike at 4, promptly drove directly into a tree...no helmet of course...got over that too. Around that time, Grandma & Grandpa added on to their house...Grandpa had me pick up the nails in the grass and paid me a penny for each. I would then run down to the Grocery store (3 blocks away) to find out what I could purchase from Mr. Kundel. I crossed the street so I didn’t have to go past the local bar...too scary!
By 8 or so, I was riding my bike 4 miles (to visit one Grandma) or 5 (to visit the other); well, mainly to get cookies.
Had a minibike by 11 and so did all of the neighbor kids- they were all boys. We built ramps, jumped ditches, ended up in the ER many times amongst us. When Winter came, we would build multi-room snow caves when young; but by about 11-12 were riding snowmobiles. A favorite activity was tying one of those steel saucers to the back with a 20’ rope whereupon the snowmobile driver would try to “toss” the rider in any way possible....WHEEEE!
Took gun safety in school in 6th grade on Friday just before lunch; taught by a DNR guy (had to bring our guns of course). Learned to shoot before then, though.
Also learned to drive before I was 10; in fact, I drove a tractor through the side of a barn when I was about 5 or 6. Dad had something to do with that as he was trying to teach me to drive it. Rode on the fender of the tractor many times...right above the big tire hanging on for dear life as we bounced along in the field. We also “walked” beans (to cut the weeds out of the fields)...I carried a 20” machete.
I was just laughing thinking about all of the band-aids and other first aid items that we must have gone through in our house...it was a daily occurrence...LOL!