There are many photos that pop up on social media of the once old-fashioned playground equipment. It in itself was not safe. Now mix in the imagination of a bunch of youngsters and the dangers became endless.
Once, we decided it would be very fun to turn a metal garbage can onto its side and take a running jump onto it. As it rolled out from under us, we would grab the monkey bars and suspend in midair with legs flapping back and forth. The laughter rang out until Paige missed the monkey bars and lay on the ground with her arm cockeyed. I am sure there were more teachers placed on duty after that recess.
But even if the equipment was used properly, I am not sure how it passed safety inspections. For instance, the old school metal merry-go-round placed in the center of our recess area would go up to 25 mph as we would pile on top of one another with the dare to see who would get slung off first. That and the swings we swung laterally with the bars the chains were connected to before we would jump to the ground. Were there teachers on duty?
Recently I was watching an episode of Bluey with my grandson. Bluey's father, a blue healer dog living in Australia, was telling his two daughters about his childhood with his little brother. As he explained to them about riding in the back of a truck the two little girl dogs asked him where was his seat belt? He said, "Ah, it was the 80's." When he told them about riding bikes they asked where were their helmets? He said, "Oh, it was the 80's, kids." This went on as he talked about drinking out of the hose and climbing enormous trees. Were their parents in the 80's?
I do remember in the 70's enjoying childhood meant charging outside mid-morning after some Captain Crunch and scavenging through the woods most of the day. We would flip over the aluminum boat and float around the pond dipping our toes in the cool murky waters. We would climb trees and swing from the branches. We would stick our foot into armadillo holes to dare movement. And we would rinse the grit in our teeth with fresh cold water out of the pump after running up and down the gravel road.
Our Dad made us wear old sneakers when we went swimming in the Bogue Chitto River to prevent the danger of cutting our feet on broken glass or rusty metal washed down from the north. At least after riding the whole way there in the back of the pickup truck drinking from a glass bottle on a country road with potholes only to battle swimming upstream and avoid being sucked under fallen logs, our feet were safe. And in retrospect, during the summertime that was likely the only time we did wear shoes.
I guess by the time the 90's rolled around those of us who had narrowly escaped the perils of youth began to form rules for our own childen, such as wearing helmets and jumping on trampolines one at a time.
But that didn't stop my four sons from devising a plan to put the sprinkler on it so when they took turns one at a time jumping, they jumped from a pecan tree branch to go slipping and sliding from the trampoline onto the wet grass.
I do believe it was at some point in the 90’s that high diving boards and slides faded away and three wheelers got a fourth wheel.
Oh well, we survived to tell the stories of old, not quite having to walk to school on foot ten miles uphill, but braving gravity with dirt between our toes. And life was good.
