The old fart racks his brain.I've been trying to remember (Google's been no help) whether we observed Daylight Saving Time before 1966 in New Jersey. It was that year the practice was adopted nationally, with a few exceptions.
I should remember, because it would have been a big deal.
Okay. Long summer nights didn't begin with the institutionalization of DST. They were, however, instantly demarcated on a calendar and given a date to be anticipated. Which all of us kids would have done. I'm sure we would have rejoiced on the day of its arrival, because it would have given us, in an instant, one more entire hour between dinnertime and dark to play wiffle ball in the O'Conner's backyard.
As it was, we played wiffle ball up until and sometimes after we could no longer actually see the bright white plastic ball. The darker it got, the greater the batter's advantage since he or she could see the ball better than could the poor fielders. So light was at a premium.
Beginning today, kids are granted an additional three or four weeks of evening sun. I'm sure some will welcome it, although most will be inside doing homework or playing video games. And many will not like waiting for their morning school bus in the dark.
All this brainracking got me thinking about back yards and how they were utilized by us. In addition to O'Conner wiffle ball games, there was the Tupper's backyard, which was reserved for Duck Duck Goose. We had to wrangle permission from old man Tupper since he didn't have kids our age, but that wasn't difficult. The yard was perfect for the game, as it had hedgerows and lots of places to hide. I don't know if any of us ever got permission from the Gaylords to use their hill for sledding. The run came to a point at the bottom where a set of steps led to an open gate. If you launched the steps dead center, shifted your weight in mid-air slightly to the right and made it through the fence opening, you would get an extra backyard (the Smiths') out of the deal. Come to think of it, the Gaylords would have been nuts to allow this, as some, like Jay Weathers who missed several weeks of school as a result, didn't quite make it through the opening. Still, we were never chased away.
Aside from death-defying fun, backyards served us kids well as shortcuts. We walked nearly a mile to and from school, so shortcuts were prized. The regular route utilized no less than eight backyard shortcuts from the O'Conners to the Tuppers. These were paths well worn by us and I suspect kids before us. No one ever questioned our rights of access - our rites of passage? - they were a given.
A few years ago, a girl rang our doorbell and asked if she and her friends could use our back and side yard for a shortcut. We said sure, so the school bus began dropping them off in front of our house and the kids would noisily descend the hill. This went on for the rest of the school year and part of the next. You could set your watch by sound of the kids shortcutting. It was nice. We felt we were doing our part. Then one day the bus no longer stopped out front. Maybe they hired a more accommodating driver or something, but I like to think the kids figured out for themselves there was a shorter, less steep backyard shortcut down the road a ways.
4 comments:
Now it obvious that being dead helps... You should call that Tales from The Grave!
No kdding, I really liked that story...
I meant "it is obvious" ...
Ah, yes, all those backyards. We even had two; the back yard and the back back yard, where the unused rock barbecue pit was. No to mention the Path up the mountain to the backyard of the Henrys. Somebody put a lot of work into that thing.
We had several routes to and from school, namely through O'Connor's and Smith's, cutting through the yard at the corner of Ingleside and Highland and emerging at the Anderson's at the top of Bellvue Avenue. It was you that taught me the route, and it was me that taught it to littler kids. And we didn't just use backyards on our way to school; our route took us through the backs of businesses, rear parking lots, and any non-linear way to get to Mount Hebron School.It was a different time; how many kids can go in the front door of stores, buy something, and leave through the back door? We did it regularly, from the drugstore on Valley Road to Poll's (Paul's?) to Lemperts. The Back Way was a Way of Life for us.
Coming home from school would find us going through entirely different back yards, from the mountainside route from the Foster's to the Smith's, or going through unknown back yards on the other side of Bradford Avenue, finally ending up on Edgecliff road. There were even long sets of wooden stairs that led from Edgecliff to Highland Avenue. Who maintained those things? Was it only kids that used them?
It occurs to me that my entire life's philosophy has been to go the Back Way. It reveals more.
The house you refer to as being owned by 'the Andersons' is the one I refer to as being the Tuppers, I think. I don't remember any Andersons.
The house on the corner of Highkand and Ingleside was owned by the Fersh's.
It's true, we did go out those back doors of the stores all the time. I guess that would be considered odd today.
I don't remeber any wooden walkway from Edgecliff to Highland. Maybe Bill does.
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