That picture looks like the fence/gate surrounding the Clinton compound in Chappaqua...I almost said Chappaquiddick...
Yep gated community. ‘Dad’ probably makes a minimum of $100k a year.
In my days we had to run ten miles, in the dark and rain--it rained or snowed every day, and wind blew straight up or down the hill, always in your face--to meet the truant officer at the abandoned buggy-whip factory where he would handcuff us to the rusty tie-down rings the blacksmith fastened back to of the wagon box.
We had to run--another 14 miles--to keep from falling down which when it happened they cuffed you to the front of the wagon, under the buckboard, and you were dragged the remaining miles in the dust and the horse urine and worse, but meant you could actually catch another 40 winks if you could just learn to relax.
If you slept through the school stop the officer would take you straight to the asbestos mine where you were too late to go down with the regular crew so they lowered you alone the two hundred feet with the line wrapped around your waist and then back between your legs--ouch!--and hooked to your back beltloop, which you'd better hope you had one of.
Oh things were simpler then! Oh the happy times we had!