I grew up in a small town, a suburb of San Francisco/Oakland. In the 1950’s the war was over, the United States had straightened out most of the world and the economy was booming. A few years earlier my parents had joined many others from the Midwest and had migrated to the promised land-California. Our street was one of a new sub-division and the homes were bought up by young couples starting families. Our street had at least 20 kids on it of varying ages. Kids moved freely from one house to another.
Behind my house was the elementary school playground. It was a huge field of well mowed weeds, mostly. There was a huge backstop leftover from the Oakland minor league ball club that had played there and a baseball diamond. We had enough kids to play baseball and football. There were three basketball courts, too.
Everyone had skates. They had metal wheels and attached to the leather soles of your shoes using a key to screw clamps tight. The lines in the sidewalks made for quite a bumpy ride. However, on weekends, when the school was empty, so were the outside hallways. These were cement, very smooth cement broad sidewalks that were covered and had wooden rails, and posts holding up the roof. They formed long straightaways and turns to make an oval track. A track to play roller derby on. We whipped each other around and knocked each other over the rails, sliding on metal wheels on the slick smooth concrete making the turns, squatting down and sticking outside legs out for balance like a speed skater on ice.
Once the bearings failed in the wheels, the ball bearings became slingshot ammo. But each skate had four wheels and the skates would separate in the middle so that there were two pairs of parallel wheels from each skate. Four pairs of wheels, so now with one failure, we are down three. Ah, with two pairs of wheels, a 2×4 board, which was available everywhere from all of the construction in the area, a hammer and four or more nails and we had a cart. Very simple. Put the wheels at each end, sit on the board and have someone push you by your shoulders. Add a second 2×4 nailed perpendicular to the first at the front, brace it with a block of wood and maybe put a handlebar on it and we had a scooter. A wooden peach crate made a Cadillac version as it was like having a cowl.
Back then, little girls got baby dolls and they pushed baby dolls around in baby buggies. Those were treasured for their wheels and axles, after they were outgrown. Those four wheels mounted on a frame of three 2×4’s with a bolt through the front board and the center board allowed it to turn. Feet went on the front board, which had a piece of rope attached making reins to hold onto, and allowed us to steer. The person who was pushing you down the street tried to push as fast and as long as they could. It was always dangerous. And incredibly fun.
We could not have had a better childhood for anything in the world. We had friends, we had rivals, they changed at times. We had all we needed if we had a hammer, a few nails, scraps of wood, and wheels. Hell, the girls rode around on broomsticks, galloping and neighing, pawing at the sidewalk while they talked, before riding off. If we didn’t have wheels, no problem! We didn’t need anything. Go hide and I’ll see if I can find you. Hide and Seek could go on for hours. The day was done when it got too dark to see. I think the children of today have been shorted on their childhood. Of course, I am old and that is what old men say. I’ll tell you this, I have lived mine and watched my children live theirs and I would take mine over theirs.