Growing up my family lived in a small neighborhood in
southwest Bibb County in Macon Ga. Actually the neighborhood was one long
street with about twenty-five houses and kids in about every house. Bloomfield
is what everyone called the area, a nice middle class side of town where
working folks lived. The ages ranged from teenage to toddler, after school and during
the summer months, the streets were filled with bicycles, skateboards or kids
just outside playing. In the summertime there were enough of us boys to have
two teams to play baseball. We divided up sides and played ball all day long.
Several times during the day we all had to check in with our Mother to let her
know where we were and be home for dinner when Dad got there. One mistake you
did not make was not being at the table for dinner when Dad got home. Behind
the neighborhood on one side were woods, thick woods and the other side a swamp
area. This is where everyone in the neighborhood played when we were not in
school. Playing army or war was one of the favorite games in the neighborhood.
Before play we all ran through the woods yelling and screaming in hopes of
scaring all the snakes away. We got our toy guns and rifles, divided into teams
and starting play fighting. The amazing thing about this game is that everyone that
played pretty much turned out ok. We grew up, got married, started a family and
had careers in the community. No one was marred by the FAKE killing we did in
our innocent childhood game. In the mornings, rain or shine, everyone made
their way to the top of the hill to wait on the big yellow school bus that
transported us to the public school to get our education. This was the 1960’s
and if my memory serves me correctly, and at my age that is sometimes
questionable, there was only one private school in the city. Stratford Academy
was the institution and the student body was made up of mostly professional
people’s kids, doctors, lawyers, and such. In the 60’s most working people
could hardly afford a new car or second car much less send their children to a
private school. So public school was where we got our education and in the 60’s
it was a good education. We had great teachers who taught us to read, write,
and do arithmetic (it was called arithmetic not math in those days). We
practiced for plays for each season or holiday, we had talent shows and haunted
houses, May Festivals and believe it or not Christmas trees in the classroom. I
loved Valentine Day, each student was given the names of the other students or
pupils as some teachers referred to us, and we bought each one a Valentine
card. If you had a girlfriend, for us boys or a boyfriend for the girls, then
you usually put a nice piece of candy on their card.
southwest Bibb County in Macon Ga. Actually the neighborhood was one long
street with about twenty-five houses and kids in about every house. Bloomfield
is what everyone called the area, a nice middle class side of town where
working folks lived. The ages ranged from teenage to toddler, after school and during
the summer months, the streets were filled with bicycles, skateboards or kids
just outside playing. In the summertime there were enough of us boys to have
two teams to play baseball. We divided up sides and played ball all day long.
Several times during the day we all had to check in with our Mother to let her
know where we were and be home for dinner when Dad got there. One mistake you
did not make was not being at the table for dinner when Dad got home. Behind
the neighborhood on one side were woods, thick woods and the other side a swamp
area. This is where everyone in the neighborhood played when we were not in
school. Playing army or war was one of the favorite games in the neighborhood.
Before play we all ran through the woods yelling and screaming in hopes of
scaring all the snakes away. We got our toy guns and rifles, divided into teams
and starting play fighting. The amazing thing about this game is that everyone that
played pretty much turned out ok. We grew up, got married, started a family and
had careers in the community. No one was marred by the FAKE killing we did in
our innocent childhood game. In the mornings, rain or shine, everyone made
their way to the top of the hill to wait on the big yellow school bus that
transported us to the public school to get our education. This was the 1960’s
and if my memory serves me correctly, and at my age that is sometimes
questionable, there was only one private school in the city. Stratford Academy
was the institution and the student body was made up of mostly professional
people’s kids, doctors, lawyers, and such. In the 60’s most working people
could hardly afford a new car or second car much less send their children to a
private school. So public school was where we got our education and in the 60’s
it was a good education. We had great teachers who taught us to read, write,
and do arithmetic (it was called arithmetic not math in those days). We
practiced for plays for each season or holiday, we had talent shows and haunted
houses, May Festivals and believe it or not Christmas trees in the classroom. I
loved Valentine Day, each student was given the names of the other students or
pupils as some teachers referred to us, and we bought each one a Valentine
card. If you had a girlfriend, for us boys or a boyfriend for the girls, then
you usually put a nice piece of candy on their card.
the morning before school the girls in the seventh grade would set up a cart in
the lobby as you first came in the door. The cart had every kind of candy a
young child could imagine for sale. I particularly liked the taffy and Boston
Baked Beans, little candy coated peanuts in a box and Mary Janes. It was also
nice to see the pretty faces of the seventh grade girls who manned the candy
cart in the mornings too. The seventh grade boys would have a cart with school
supplies for sale. Pencils, erasers, Write Right writing pads. Do you remember those
Wright Right pads? Each one had a coupon on it and when you had collected
enough you traded them in for free things. Getting a new eraser was the
highlight of this young boy’s day and a box of 64 color crayons was extra
special. Not everyone had the jumbo box; most us only got a 24 pack, so your
best friend became the 64 color kid.
Life was really good back then. No one worried about drugs
making their way into the grammar school. If someone brought a knife to school
and the teacher discovered it she would tell the child to put it away till
after school or take it and hold it till after school. If you were caught
fighting, you was sent to the principal’s office where you would probably get a
paddling, oh no not a paddling! We respected out teachers for the most
part and we got an education. Graduating the seventh grade and going to junior
high was actually something that didn’t concern our parents. The worst thing
that happened in high school was smoking in the restroom and that would also
result in a paddling. In high school, if two guys were caught fighting, usually
one of the coaches marched you into the gym, put gloves on them and let them
duke it out. No one tried to kill or stab the other, when it was over they
shook hands and it was over, for the most part. Did I say life was better back
then?
making their way into the grammar school. If someone brought a knife to school
and the teacher discovered it she would tell the child to put it away till
after school or take it and hold it till after school. If you were caught
fighting, you was sent to the principal’s office where you would probably get a
paddling, oh no not a paddling! We respected out teachers for the most
part and we got an education. Graduating the seventh grade and going to junior
high was actually something that didn’t concern our parents. The worst thing
that happened in high school was smoking in the restroom and that would also
result in a paddling. In high school, if two guys were caught fighting, usually
one of the coaches marched you into the gym, put gloves on them and let them
duke it out. No one tried to kill or stab the other, when it was over they
shook hands and it was over, for the most part. Did I say life was better back
then?
Reminiscing is sometimes difficult especially the older one
gets. Time in the past becomes faded and we wonder where the time went. I now
become more concerned for my grandchildren as one is now in middle school and
another starting next year. The world is changing and we have to go with
change, but change needs to be better not worse. Schools and the neighborhood need
to be a place where children feel safe and parents are not worried about their
safety. The innocence of growing up should be first on the minds of adults and
not violence and overdosing on products some uncaring, heartless person is
selling to make a quick buck. Our children should be playing baseball and army
in the woods with their friends and having fun. Today it is difficult even to
allow them to play outside without someone watching them for fear they will be
abducted by a weird person and abused. Life and times have changed since I was
a child and I am afraid it will never be a world of safety and innocence again.
gets. Time in the past becomes faded and we wonder where the time went. I now
become more concerned for my grandchildren as one is now in middle school and
another starting next year. The world is changing and we have to go with
change, but change needs to be better not worse. Schools and the neighborhood need
to be a place where children feel safe and parents are not worried about their
safety. The innocence of growing up should be first on the minds of adults and
not violence and overdosing on products some uncaring, heartless person is
selling to make a quick buck. Our children should be playing baseball and army
in the woods with their friends and having fun. Today it is difficult even to
allow them to play outside without someone watching them for fear they will be
abducted by a weird person and abused. Life and times have changed since I was
a child and I am afraid it will never be a world of safety and innocence again.
I need to go now because I have an urge to call my
grandchildren and check on them.
grandchildren and check on them.
Life Happens!
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