Born 1955. I had some great chilhood years!
Me too. It was safe. I actually went downtown at age 11 on Friday and Saturday nights to volunteer at the symphony in exchange for a free seat. I rode the bus home at 10 pm afterward and never was afraid.
I grew up in a small town where everone knew everyone else's business.
I was held accountable by EVERY adult in town. If I did anything wrong, my parents knew about it before I got home.
I behaved, because I would never want to shame my parents. I couldn't wait to move away from there,....now I'd give anything to have it all back.
still dang handsome too
ok...just the “still” is true
Born 1935, have some better ones. Digging underground forts, trading comics on Sat morning, having the local cop boot our butt and watching as our parents did the same. Running a trap-line before and after school to get money for your first pair of Levis, going to the library to get your view of life and the world, and that sneak peek at National Geographic. Hobo camps down at the train yard (per mother, “they’ll steal you away if you go near”) yet giving these same people peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, as that’s all we had. Trips to the fire house to help my fireman uncle polish the fire truck, helping to polish the brass buttons on his uniform, everyone was Mr. or Mrs/Miss. Every day, I ask myself, why did it end?
1946. Grew up in Long Beach, California. Rode my bike everywhere. Took the P.E. (aka Red Car) by myself up to downtown L.A. to see relatives. Made stops in Willowbrook, Watts, etc. Never bothered by anybody. As others have said, it was a different and IMHO better world then.