Things no one will ever do again 3: Wander the neighborhood

My best friend in grade school, Tom Kervin, lived a block over from me in our working class neighborhood, an area of perfectly flat 50X100 lots. Easy to bicycle. Easy to Trick or Treat. Easy to deliver newspapers.

Tom’s parents were from the Midwest, and they didn’t lock the door to their house. The most serious problem they ever suffered from that in the 60’s was moochers showing up at dinner time for some of Tom’s mother’s amazing cooking. Even I showed up now and then, for a second dinner (I also showed up for a second breakfast at Lavada Nudo’s house, but I think I’ve already told that story).

We wandered the neighborhood, played baseball on the street, spent time in each other’s backyards, garages and basements. Many of the people in the neighborhood had been there since the 40’s, when my dad grew up in the house next door. My dad and I both created newspapers called the Beech Street Bugle. We sold subscriptions (25 cents) to many of the same people.

The point of all this? We were free-range children, a group now so rare that they are identified that way, as a minority. Today’s frightened parents in a scary world will insure that almost no one will wander the neighborhood again with unlocked doors, street baseball, and all-day games of Risk.