In the late 70s and early 80s I lived in a cul de sac and a whole crowd of us used to play out on the green, building dens, climbing trees, rolling marbles in the gutters, riding our bikes, playing imaginary games and building go karts.
At the school where I work now, we had a Swiss student teacher come on an exchange visit for a week. She was absolutely staggered by the number of parents coming to school to pick up 8 and 9 year old children at the end of the day. "In my canton we all walk ourselves to school from the age of 5," she said, "but I suppose we are...safer there?"
Those sound great childhood memories, Fiona, not much different to my 1960s experience. And good to know children still walk themselves to school from a young age in parts of Switzerland.
Your dad's stories are captivating. Pushing the kid into the tar pond! They are the sorts of childhood experiences which form memories so strong, you can't ever forget them. How lucky to have had them inscribed as keepsakes. And knowing the backstory to the film Kes is a bonus. It brought me even deeper into the landscape of your lives.
Thank you, Jill. I was amazed at what a good memory my dad had. He was full of stories and recalled details of conversations, what things cost, what happened when. So glad to have some of them written down.
Yes, I was eight when Kes was filmed and it was a big deal, shining a spotlight on that area of the country. I still love the film. I see it in a slightly different light each time.
Loved this Wendy and thanks for the mention! I wish I could find the instructions Dad typed out for me on how to get from Glasgow to the middle of France alone! The snatched doll incident is astounding - like you am curious to know the girl's story x
I’d love to see those instructions, too! Pre internet, pre mobiles. Map and a compass, maybe :D I thought you’d written about it, but couldn’t see it on your Substack. Maybe it was in an earlier, pre-Substack column.
Yes, the doll-snatch was quite something. Second time that doll had been taken, but the first time it was by a different child with adults, who rather reluctantly agreed to her giving it back.
Thank you for this reminder. In the 70s we ran around in the woods above our neighborhood all day. We made forts in the blackberry bushes and ran with purple mouths and dirty feet. We rode horses and motor bikes and weren't supposed to come in until dark. There was this falling-down cabin up in the woods the big kids hung out in and we would spy on them. There was a giant rock up in a cherry orchard we would sit on and talk. We always had things to do, though we did a lot of nothing, I suppose.
I feel sorry for kids nowadays whose every minute is scheduled. It was lovely just to go out, the only rule was to be back for supper, and off we went to climb trees and run down hills arms out hoping to fly, and have secrets and imaginary worlds. And I love what your father wrote!
Thank you, Abigail. Yes, that freedom to escape into imagination outdoors is very special. And to play without adult pressures being imposed.
I’m very glad my dad narrated his childhood stories before he died - he had such a clear memory. That poor lad being made to walk the plank over the tar pit! Crikey.
This is lovely, Wendy. We played out all the time when we were kids, and often with toddlers in tow. I remember one day a bunch of girls had a baby in a pram to push around all day - some young mum having a break!
I'm happy that my sister's kids and friends play out all the time too, but I guess this is because there's nothing else to do and no money for them to be in clubs/on screens all the time. In my sister's case she's determined for them to have a proper childhood.
I played out in the late 1960s/early 70s...and mostly on my own. There was a little wood near our house in Surrey and I built a den...that sounds much more sophisticated than it was, I just cleared a space to sit down! I probably had some crisps and a bottle of that strawberry creamy pop advertised by a panda. .
Sounds familiar, Sarah. We used to build a den in the hedgerow behind the house.
I remember walking down the local woods with our dog on my own when I was about eight, hoping to impress the farmer's son, who was in my class at school. His mother spotted me instead and threatened to shoot the dog if she saw me on the field with it again! That told me!
We weren’t supervised on my street, but I lived in a generally quiet area! Though, things have changed. I think supervised play is the way forward until things improve. I don’t think you can be too careful when so many are being stabbed etc. Look at the Southport event recently!
Hi Wendy, I loved reading about your childhood and research, so many commonalities.
"I was accompanied to school by my mum precisely once, on my first day at infants, aged four, and after that, expected to make my own way there on foot."
My brother age 6, walked me age 5 to Kindergarten, and pulled me out of a strangers car who lured me in for candy. That does happen.
"My triplet daughters walked to school by themselves once they were nine. I was studying for an Environmental Science degree at the time, and wrote my dissertation on The Journey To School, because I was interested in how children’s independence had been impacted over the decades as roads became busier."
So interesting. I remember the time of the lock key children. Or some day like that. We never locked our doors, there were too many of us coming and going with no eyes upon us. When I see the opposite of this, I am amazed — wow the idea of protection and freedom — a fine dance of paradox.
Thank you, Prajna. That’s scary. Stranger danger does (and did) occasionally happen (I remember a friend almost being lured away for sweets, too). Good that your brother was vigilant. But in many places traffic danger is ever present. Neither is good, of course!
And it is a dilemma knowing where to draw the line between freedom and protection. A paradox, as you say.
My daughter Alex asked me if I’d appreciated the freedoms I’d had as a child and I said, of course. I think I used the phrase “character-forming”! But I kept a closer watch on my kids, and they keep a close watch on theirs!
This is brilliant Wendy and talks so much sense. It's hard for parents in cities today to find opportunities for kids in the same way we had back then. (Apart from not being mentally in a cage of their own making.) Funnily some of the best possibilities in London are tiny flats in big council blocks with a common courtyard. I live in one. My son from quite a young age would say, Dad I'm just going down to play with Mohammed, or whoever. Something not possible in the nearby detached houses with gardens but no communal space. Precious.
Thank you, Seb. And thanks for subscribing! Really good to ‘meet’ you here.
I agree with you about those council blocks. They were meant to be “community” spaces, and it’s great if they still are! The original architect drawings for some of them are positively Utopian. (I did some research into the history of housing when I lived in London.)
I grew up in a cul-de-sac, and that’s another good design for children, as any traffic is easily visible and has to slow down.
On a holiday to the States, I couldn’t believe how hard it was to simply walk around, because so much of it has been planned for traffic, not pedestrians.
I love these vivid stories of four generations, growing up! And yes, so lucky to have your father’s memories in his own words— thanks for sharing them.
Great post. So nice you have your dads stories. In the 70’s -80’s I grew up on two London council estates , we were out all day , no supervision, and would only go home for tea time. At aged 3 my mum would send me to the estate shop to buy her a newspaper and on one occasion I came back with bubble gum, telling her they had sold out lol. My kids did not have the same privilege( not that they would want to be out all day, we didn’t have devises to entertain us, X-box , TikTok) 🙄 plus more traffic and we know much more now of the ‘dangers’ with the spread of the internet
Thank you, Francis! (And thanks so much for your subscription. It's made my day!)
It sounds like you had similar freedoms in 1970s/80s London as I did in 1960s/70s South Yorkshire. Freedom, or benign neglect?! Whatever, I don't regret it. I remember my next door neighbour, June, sending me up to the shop to buy her a bra when I was about four, while she was at home busy with her baby.
My friend was sent at lunchtime by one of the teachers at our infants school to buy her cigarettes! (Her mum kicked up a fuss about that.)
Like you, I was more cautious with my daughters during their 1990s childhoods.
By the time my son came along in 2001, the virtual world had well and truly taken off. Lego and then virtual Lego (Minecraft) took up soooo much of his time and it could be a tussle to prise him out of the house! Glad to see he's a lot more outdoorsy now he's grown up.
In the late 70s and early 80s I lived in a cul de sac and a whole crowd of us used to play out on the green, building dens, climbing trees, rolling marbles in the gutters, riding our bikes, playing imaginary games and building go karts.
At the school where I work now, we had a Swiss student teacher come on an exchange visit for a week. She was absolutely staggered by the number of parents coming to school to pick up 8 and 9 year old children at the end of the day. "In my canton we all walk ourselves to school from the age of 5," she said, "but I suppose we are...safer there?"
Those sound great childhood memories, Fiona, not much different to my 1960s experience. And good to know children still walk themselves to school from a young age in parts of Switzerland.
Your dad's stories are captivating. Pushing the kid into the tar pond! They are the sorts of childhood experiences which form memories so strong, you can't ever forget them. How lucky to have had them inscribed as keepsakes. And knowing the backstory to the film Kes is a bonus. It brought me even deeper into the landscape of your lives.
Thank you, Jill. I was amazed at what a good memory my dad had. He was full of stories and recalled details of conversations, what things cost, what happened when. So glad to have some of them written down.
Yes, I was eight when Kes was filmed and it was a big deal, shining a spotlight on that area of the country. I still love the film. I see it in a slightly different light each time.
Loved this Wendy and thanks for the mention! I wish I could find the instructions Dad typed out for me on how to get from Glasgow to the middle of France alone! The snatched doll incident is astounding - like you am curious to know the girl's story x
I’d love to see those instructions, too! Pre internet, pre mobiles. Map and a compass, maybe :D I thought you’d written about it, but couldn’t see it on your Substack. Maybe it was in an earlier, pre-Substack column.
Yes, the doll-snatch was quite something. Second time that doll had been taken, but the first time it was by a different child with adults, who rather reluctantly agreed to her giving it back.
Thank you for this reminder. In the 70s we ran around in the woods above our neighborhood all day. We made forts in the blackberry bushes and ran with purple mouths and dirty feet. We rode horses and motor bikes and weren't supposed to come in until dark. There was this falling-down cabin up in the woods the big kids hung out in and we would spy on them. There was a giant rock up in a cherry orchard we would sit on and talk. We always had things to do, though we did a lot of nothing, I suppose.
Wow! Sounds admirably wild, Lyndsey. Thank you for sharing vivid childhood memories.
We were always SO dirty. Mom or Dad would make us wash in the yard with the garden hose before our baths.
Haha! That’s funny, needing a hose down first!
We had a bath once a week - same water for all - and if you were last the water was so filthy you may as well not bother!
Oh no! Haaa!!
I feel sorry for kids nowadays whose every minute is scheduled. It was lovely just to go out, the only rule was to be back for supper, and off we went to climb trees and run down hills arms out hoping to fly, and have secrets and imaginary worlds. And I love what your father wrote!
Thank you, Abigail. Yes, that freedom to escape into imagination outdoors is very special. And to play without adult pressures being imposed.
I’m very glad my dad narrated his childhood stories before he died - he had such a clear memory. That poor lad being made to walk the plank over the tar pit! Crikey.
That sounds so scary. I'm glad you have his stories. The snowball fight must have been something!
This is lovely, Wendy. We played out all the time when we were kids, and often with toddlers in tow. I remember one day a bunch of girls had a baby in a pram to push around all day - some young mum having a break!
I'm happy that my sister's kids and friends play out all the time too, but I guess this is because there's nothing else to do and no money for them to be in clubs/on screens all the time. In my sister's case she's determined for them to have a proper childhood.
Thanks, Georgina. Sounds like you had a similar upbringing to me, really. Good to hear your sister’s following in that tradition with her kids, too.
How wonderful to have those memories from your dad!
Thank you, Anna. I treasure my dad’s stories. I read the one about the flying circus at his funeral.
A great post Wendy. I love Kes. It’s great to read your father’s memories. Coincidentally I’m just reading my grandfather’s.
I have really fond memories of playing out and scabbed knees. I’m always sad that my daughter has missed out on that long leash of play.
Thank you, Margaret. I rewatched Kes quite recently and it’s as powerful as ever. It’s classic.
That’s such a good way of putting it - ‘missed out on that long leash of play’. Exactly!
I played out in the late 1960s/early 70s...and mostly on my own. There was a little wood near our house in Surrey and I built a den...that sounds much more sophisticated than it was, I just cleared a space to sit down! I probably had some crisps and a bottle of that strawberry creamy pop advertised by a panda. .
Sounds familiar, Sarah. We used to build a den in the hedgerow behind the house.
I remember walking down the local woods with our dog on my own when I was about eight, hoping to impress the farmer's son, who was in my class at school. His mother spotted me instead and threatened to shoot the dog if she saw me on the field with it again! That told me!
Oh yes, I walked our dog on my own as well. And the drink was called Cresta, advertised by a polar bear ( I googled!)
Loved this. What great memories from your father.
Thank you Rosie. He had such a good memory right into old age. I was so glad Kay thought to write down his stories, as I hadn't heard half of them!
We weren’t supervised on my street, but I lived in a generally quiet area! Though, things have changed. I think supervised play is the way forward until things improve. I don’t think you can be too careful when so many are being stabbed etc. Look at the Southport event recently!
Thanks, Courtenay. Knife crime is scary, for sure. It's so hard to make a call on how much freedom to give children.
Hi Wendy, I loved reading about your childhood and research, so many commonalities.
"I was accompanied to school by my mum precisely once, on my first day at infants, aged four, and after that, expected to make my own way there on foot."
My brother age 6, walked me age 5 to Kindergarten, and pulled me out of a strangers car who lured me in for candy. That does happen.
"My triplet daughters walked to school by themselves once they were nine. I was studying for an Environmental Science degree at the time, and wrote my dissertation on The Journey To School, because I was interested in how children’s independence had been impacted over the decades as roads became busier."
So interesting. I remember the time of the lock key children. Or some day like that. We never locked our doors, there were too many of us coming and going with no eyes upon us. When I see the opposite of this, I am amazed — wow the idea of protection and freedom — a fine dance of paradox.
Thank you Wendy
Thank you, Prajna. That’s scary. Stranger danger does (and did) occasionally happen (I remember a friend almost being lured away for sweets, too). Good that your brother was vigilant. But in many places traffic danger is ever present. Neither is good, of course!
And it is a dilemma knowing where to draw the line between freedom and protection. A paradox, as you say.
My daughter Alex asked me if I’d appreciated the freedoms I’d had as a child and I said, of course. I think I used the phrase “character-forming”! But I kept a closer watch on my kids, and they keep a close watch on theirs!
Words of a very wise mama. Thank you!
This is brilliant Wendy and talks so much sense. It's hard for parents in cities today to find opportunities for kids in the same way we had back then. (Apart from not being mentally in a cage of their own making.) Funnily some of the best possibilities in London are tiny flats in big council blocks with a common courtyard. I live in one. My son from quite a young age would say, Dad I'm just going down to play with Mohammed, or whoever. Something not possible in the nearby detached houses with gardens but no communal space. Precious.
Thank you, Seb. And thanks for subscribing! Really good to ‘meet’ you here.
I agree with you about those council blocks. They were meant to be “community” spaces, and it’s great if they still are! The original architect drawings for some of them are positively Utopian. (I did some research into the history of housing when I lived in London.)
I grew up in a cul-de-sac, and that’s another good design for children, as any traffic is easily visible and has to slow down.
On a holiday to the States, I couldn’t believe how hard it was to simply walk around, because so much of it has been planned for traffic, not pedestrians.
Lovely dad stuff xx
Thank you, Lib!
I love these vivid stories of four generations, growing up! And yes, so lucky to have your father’s memories in his own words— thanks for sharing them.
Thank you, Victoria. Lovely way to put it: four generations growing up. I hadn't thought of it that way, but of course it it! Spanning 90+ years!
Great post. So nice you have your dads stories. In the 70’s -80’s I grew up on two London council estates , we were out all day , no supervision, and would only go home for tea time. At aged 3 my mum would send me to the estate shop to buy her a newspaper and on one occasion I came back with bubble gum, telling her they had sold out lol. My kids did not have the same privilege( not that they would want to be out all day, we didn’t have devises to entertain us, X-box , TikTok) 🙄 plus more traffic and we know much more now of the ‘dangers’ with the spread of the internet
Thank you, Francis! (And thanks so much for your subscription. It's made my day!)
It sounds like you had similar freedoms in 1970s/80s London as I did in 1960s/70s South Yorkshire. Freedom, or benign neglect?! Whatever, I don't regret it. I remember my next door neighbour, June, sending me up to the shop to buy her a bra when I was about four, while she was at home busy with her baby.
My friend was sent at lunchtime by one of the teachers at our infants school to buy her cigarettes! (Her mum kicked up a fuss about that.)
Like you, I was more cautious with my daughters during their 1990s childhoods.
By the time my son came along in 2001, the virtual world had well and truly taken off. Lego and then virtual Lego (Minecraft) took up soooo much of his time and it could be a tussle to prise him out of the house! Glad to see he's a lot more outdoorsy now he's grown up.
Bra and cigarettes, that's so funny Wendy. I remember the Lego days ! LOL