Sliding on just our bottoms on the tailings pile, which was a beautiful iridescent black/purple/blue near a small strip mine. Same on a huge (to a 9-year-old) pile of construction sand. Lied about it, even though our bottoms were filthy. Got spanked with a hairbrush for lying. Ruining our clothes was good for another punishment, usually having to wash them ourselves, by hand before they went into the laundry. Mom had a wringer washer. No dryer except a clothesline.
Being trusted at age 7 to look both ways before crossing the hard road to buy a loaf of bread for a nickle at the tiny neighborhood *store*, which was also the truck weighing station where we waited for the school bus. Always got another 2 cents for gum or a candy.
Being told to go out and play and be in by dark. No streetlights. Walking a mile along the shoulder of the hard road to get to the park, carrying a tennis racket in summer heat. Playing all day without supervision, then walking back home.
Missing the school bus and walking home 3-4 miles along the hard road. It was downhill, so it wasn’t too bad. No personal phones. No money for a pay phone. One-car family, so no one could get us anyway. No one freaked out.
Playing in the creek, then finding a loose part of the fence and sneaking into the grounds of the old nun’s home to pick white violets. No adults were ever there to stop us.
Exploring on our bikes, finding a steep dirt road and at the end was a pony farm. Feeding the ponies. We were 11. Finally, we became such pests, they put up a gate to keep us out.
No one ever even mentioned getting sued. We were told to be careful and usually we weren’t, but nothing really serious ever happened.
Sneaking under the fence at the golf club to swipe golf balls.
Playing down at the creek and swinging on the vines across it yelling the Tarzan yell.