I am the daughter of a couple who grew up in small-town Alabama. We lived with my grandmother in a huge old Victorian house, along with 2 "maiden lady" schoolteachers and the high school football coach (be still my heart, but all he ever did was buy me ice cream cones once in a while.) Whoops---I forgot the Baptist minister who lived there, too (he smoked Lucky Strikes and I used to sneak them and cough my brains out)
On the same street, there lived:
--3 sets of great-uncle/aunts
--My Uncle David and Aunt Mary Nelle
--A whole bunch of cousins
None of us had any money to speak of, but we had great old houses, gardens, huge trees to climb---and I'll never forget the summer that Mrs. Lewis next door (who had her grandchildren my age visiting) let us use her garage to "put on a play." (Think Judy Garland and Micky Rooney.)
Well, they were named Judy and Bobby. Judy was 9 years old, beautiful and a born actress.
Bobby was 10 and he set about making the stage. Between old lumber, old drapes and the 3 of us painting backdrops, we created a magnificent theater.
I was the designated writer (also played bit parts) and before you knew it, it was almost the 4th of July, So we hand-wrote invitations to everyone in town (not many those days) and went out to collect flowers to give all the ladies a bouquet.
Need I say that the play was a huge hit, everyone in town came and (by the way) it took up all the summer. The play was so popular that we had to do it every weekend until school started.
Just imagine kids being set free to do all that on their own, no grownup came near us and we were in hysterics going through the attics finding costumes.
Now here is the real mind-blowing result of letting 3 children do their thing:
--Judy ended up as a TV anchor in Birmingham
--Bobby ended up being a producer in Hollywood
--I ended up being a journalist
We were free, they left us alone and nobody worried that some pervert was going to pounce. Actually, I think that back then in Alabama they didn't even know what a pervert was. There just were't any.
What a horrible, heart-breaking shame that today's children don't have the freedon to find out what they love to do and who they are.
There isn't a day of my life that I don't thank God that I was born 65 years ago. My children are totally paranoid about my grandchildren and never let them out of their sight.
They (my children) are frazzled beyound belief driving the grandkids to soccer, gymnastics and what-have-you. Neither the parents and grandkids seem to be having much fun, either.
Sometimes it sort of feels good to be old, when you remember how much fun it was to be a kid in a safe world.