I grew up in a small neighborhood. Much the same situation everyone knew everyone else’s kids. Whoever’s house you were playing in front of that mother had authority over you. We all ran in a pack. Everyone had a bike and a dog. We didn’t have helmets and the dogs didn’t have leashes. When it was dinnertime all the mothers told the kids that weren’t their’s to go home. We ran the whole neighborhood, the woods and the large creek. We played baseball, football, homemade skateboards out of skates and wood. If you got hurt you ran home bleeding and your mother patched you up. kids got hurt and a few broken bones from time to time but nobody died. I feel sorry for kids nowadays. They have no concept of how great childhood used to be.
Tackle football, when the end zone was my granddad’s brick wall. Wonder how no one ever died, but we were careful going deep.