Yes, Kids Really Used to Play Like This
Summer beckons and so does independence.
While our culture’s norms have changed, children have not. They love — want — NEED some time with friends, without US. How wonderful someone recorded this game of bike tag in 1983 (video below), so we don’t start distrusting our own memories. “We didn’t REALLY play on our own all day — did we?”
YES. WE. DID.
Feel free to share your summer memories in the comments. And if you’d like to steel yourself to give your own kids some of that old-fashioned childhood (but with helmets), consider taking The Let Grow Pledge of Independence. It comes with a free email series: “10 Weeks to a Let Grow Kid.” HAPPY SUMMER!
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I have so many memories like this. Maybe that’s why I got my kids balance bikes and got them pedaling as young as possible. I thought I was doing them a favor. But they have nobody to ride around with and their bikes just sit in the shed most days.
How to make someone’s bike stop abruptly — shove a tree branch into their front spokes.
Cheap thrills — ride as fast as possible into the garage and jam the brakes to skid on the smooth floor.
Getting air — when the tree roots shove up sections of sidewalk into steep ramps.
My dad taught me to ride my first bicycle when I was six. The first time I set out, balancing on two wheels, with some other kids from the neighborhood, I got about a hundred feet and crashed. The end of the handlebar knocked the wind out of me, but after a minute I got up, got back on, and kept going. All that summer (1960) we rode all over that end of town, to go fishing in the creek, to play at the local dairy and sit on the fence and pet cows, and to the empty fields to dig forts and have dirt clod fights. We found a dirt ramp that would launch us about five feet high for a distance of about thirty feet if we hit it going as fast as we could peddle. We had huge water fights with garden hoses, water balloons, and squirt guns that were black and looked real. It had never occurred to anyone to wear a helmet on a bicycle. We went out in the morning, dropped by our houses for lunch, went out again, and came home at dusk. No grownup eyes were on us, all day long. Nobody died or even got seriously injured. We burned a zillion calories and nobody was fat. We got sunburned and skinned our knees. There were BB guns, and I even got a .22 rifle for my eighth birthday, yet none of us turned out to be murderers. It was a glorious way to live childhood, and I’d have it all exactly the same if I could do it over again.
My dad taught me to ride my first bicycle when I was six. The first time I set out, balancing on two wheels, with some other kids from the neighborhood, I got about a hundred feet and crashed. The end of the handlebar knocked the wind out of me, but after a minute I got up, got back on, and kept going. All that summer (1960) we rode all over that end of town, to go fishing in the creek, to play at the local dairy and sit on the fence and pet cows, and to the empty fields to dig forts and have dirt clod fights. We found a dirt ramp that would launch us about five feet high for a distance of about thirty feet if we hit it going as fast as we could pedal. We had huge water fights with garden hoses, water balloons, and squirt guns that were black and looked real. It had never occurred to anyone to wear a helmet on a bicycle. We went out in the morning, dropped by our houses for lunch, went out again, and came home at dusk. No grownup eyes were on us, all day long. Nobody died or even got seriously injured. We burned a zillion calories and nobody was fat. We got sunburned and skinned our knees. There were BB guns, and I even got a .22 rifle for my eighth birthday, yet none of us turned out to be murderers. It was a glorious way to live childhood, and I’d have it all exactly the same if I could do it over again.
Oops: pedal. I wish there was an edit function.
My 9-year-old just walked in while I was watching the video and feeling nostalgic and said, “Cool Dad! That looks fun!”
Bittersweet moment. Like Lon said above, unfortunately, there just aren’t other kids outside on their bikes for him to do this. I encouraged him to start a club and find other kids around here to play this with. Fingers crossed!
Loved this, brought back summer memories of the 1970’s. We rode all over our small Midwest town. But, hey, who is Vic & what’s the deal with him shaming the lil guy w thick glasses about how he coulda done better looking and listening for cars!?
I’m with the kid (John?) who said he thought they were smart enough to watch for cars. Seems like Vic disagreed. While the opening voiceover & most of the video are really encouraging, the ending blows it by interrogating a- whaddaya think- 8? yr old about safety. The adults screwed it up for tv ratings.
I grew up in a small, rural-ish town on the largest lake in NJ. Yet my friends could be miles away. No matter: I biked, at least by day, if conditions not too bad. Never hit by car or pedestrian. Walked on my own, or with friends, to school or bus stop, home from sports — including in dark; including in bad conditions throughout winter. This expected of us. Necessary for most parents to hold down jobs. We, others, commonly needed 2 incomes to avoid poverty, pay off mortgages. No injuries I recall worse than bumping heads in soccer, falling on my face in gym class and chipping a bone in my nose. I avoided macho altercations that were common in Hopatcong. At least beyond protecting my bro’, someone else. Up until 7, we lived with a forest in back of our house, a swingset my Dad installed for us, neighborhood friends. My BF had for yrs been the youngest girl, my age, of a large family close by. She, another girl, a boy would sometimes drop by. I spent even more time at her house. Her mother would be there, sometimes older siblings, but hardly hovering. We did what we wanted, incl exploring the forest playing indoors and out. She generously hosted many parties for a bunch of mutual friends as teens. At 7, though, we moved miles away to another part of town, with a bit of lakefront. Not really suitable for swimming because of zooming motorboats. An access to canoeing w/ my Dad. Preparing for races. Also going out on ice in winter once he checked it was safely thick. He installed a basketball hoop which drew many kids from the neighborhood. I clamored for a puppy and was accommodated, with my promise to be his primary caretaker. We were also expected to help w/ many household chores, snow shoveling. Played a lot w/ one beloved doggie in particular: my soulmate. One who tragically died at 8, racked w/ cancer. I can’t imagine my emotional development if not for him, if not for The Beatles esp. Several kids suffered broken bones during recess or ski trips. Healed fine, so far as I know. Me only in HS falling on my face, chipping a nose bone. No more babysitters once we moved to another neighborhood at 7. I took care of my Eric, 3 yrs. younger, No incidents that I recall, though I found the house kinda spooky. We moved again to a development w/ a beach club and many kids my age. Also a Scout troop w/ a terrific Scoutmaster. We camped monthly year-round. I walked/biked to and from mtgs, coming home after dark, after the town’s curfew — enacted to protect property from marauding teens. A cop once pulled over to Q my the BF and me. He was friendly and was fine letting us go once we explained we were walking back from our Scout mtg. I had a crush on the naturalist who led nature hikes at NJ’s High Point State Park– where my family camped for over month each summer. On a pond w/ a beach w/ sand, but no lifeguards. No matter: Eric and I were allowed to go there and back unattended, meet up w/ my friends, one summer a GF, we met there camping. Anyway, my parents tired of the nature hikes, but everyone was happy to let me ride to/from the hike locus w/ the naturalist. One time on our way back, we stopped at a fire tower atop a mountain. I was scared of heights, but w/ Pat leading the way, I wasn’t gonna lag or beg off. So there I was climbing some 40 feet of open stairs to the tower top swaying in the wind. Thrilling. I was also left in the hands of other adults of our local Kayak club. Getting rides from another member, under the auspices, friendly consent, mentoring of the leader. He judged me among the newbies qualified to go down finale Class III rapids in the Catskills. Thrilling. Esp so compared to rather minimal risks. The water WANTS to take you around any rocks. Overhanging trees: no. I was the only kid there. So too backpacking the Appalachain trail, though some treks were w/ Scouting friends; one w/ my Dad. Mostly the entire trail from CT to PA. Recess at school was mostly boring: little to do except when girls wanted to kiss me. School was mostly boring. I skipped 7th grade and w/ a birthday in July, I was a minor away as a college freshman. I can’t recall this being an issue. I was fortunate to have sensational mentors at many points: the Naturalist, my Scoutmaster, family who liked games, a HS English teacher and a Math teacher, associates where I worked as a paralegal, the elite Judge and name partner I worked for, our colleagues, special friends. Loving parents who expected responsibility from me, while rewarding me to freedom, much access to (R) movies, adult conversation. Where I felt deprived was lack of facilities, more activities requiring adult organization, or rides. E.g. to get to a movie. Play soccer. Though I did have much fun developing my dribbling schools w/ Luke defending. He loved it too. I was very happy getting to college where I had many more peers academically, fast formed close friendships, though I disliked how many formed entitled cliques. My unaggressive advocacy for nonbinding arbitration to expedite resolution of the Blue Collar union strike alienated many during my college years. Long after the 1st semester settlement. My Dad had been unionized when delivering home heating oil; my Mom as a public school teacher. (Their summer furlows aligned nicely w/ our school summers. Hence all our time camping.) In younger yrs, my Dad took me at times to his work as a parole officer. At home, helping him w/ repairs. He was handy and taught me much, but he took on matters not within his expertise. Frugality run amok. I found in college I’d picked up all his angry cussing. I learned to control this in public settings, at home so as not to upset GFs, pets. Besides my paper route, I worked my last 3 HS summers for Hopatcong landscaping, etc. its minimal parks. Fun bonding w/ co-workers, as at later work locations. My Mom said she DID worry giving me so much independence. But I’d earned it, clamored for it. And my parents needed me to take on stuff so they could work, pursue their own lives.