Hello, and welcome to this week's edition of Flashback Friday. In today's offering, we leave the small town where I grew up to travel to the sprawling metropolis of Westerville, OH. Why Westerville, you ask? That is where my paternal grandparents lived. With both Mom & Dad working in Westerville, I spent the majority of my summers there during the 70's .
Grandpa died when I was 7, and Grandma wasn't into playing unless it was cards. Every card game I know how to play, she taught me. But as a child, you could only play cards (and get beat) for so long before you got bored with it. There was a small box of toys there, but nothing like the (to quote my grandson) "cool toys that Papa has". What do you do when there is nothing to do? You turn your imagination loose.
There was a wrought iron swing in the tree nearest the house. That swing became an airplane, a roller coaster, and car, but my favorite thing was when it would become a boat. Not just any boat, mind you, the S.S. Minnow to be exact. I loved to pretend that I was Gilligan or the Skipper trying to keep the Minnow afloat during the storm that eventually beached her. By grabbing the chains at the sides and pushing one with your left arm while pulling the other with your right, then alternating, made the swing pitch and sway. It was better if you could get someone else on the other set of chains.
One day the neighbor's grandson, Ray, came over to visit. He was two years younger than me, and had a sister who was my age. I convinced Ray to play "Gilligan's Island" with me. I grabbed one set of chains, and he grabbed the other. That swing was swaying like a hula dancer with a snake in her skirt. We were having a great time. Then suddenly I heard a crack, then a loud groan. Then I realized the tree is falling!
I hollered to Ray to jump. We both jumped as the tree fell toward us. Fortunately, neither of us were hurt. Grandma and Ray's dad came running out of the house to find out what all that racket was. Neither had expected to find a tree laying in the yard. When they asked what happened, we told them that we were playing on the swing, and the tree fell over. The tree had rotted at the roots, and probably would have come down in a good wind. We had just sped up the process of bringing it down. It missed the house by only a few feet.
The tree was cut up, and the swing was moved to a large maple that was farther away from the house. Life imitates art. Like on TV, our Gilligan's Island was cancelled. Even though this activity was no longer played with the vigor it once was, Ray and I found other ways to entertain ourselves. More "Tales from Grandma's backyard" in future Flashback Friday posts.
To this day, I am amazed that I survived my childhood.
2 comments:
WOW! What a suprise! I, too, loved that show. It is funny what we remember about our summers, isn't it? So glad it didn't hurt anyone or hit the house. Unfortunately, we have had the house hitting play out over here!
Mrs. Nurse Boy
I think we're all amazed that we survived our childhoods. :)
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