Childhood Memories... Share If You'd Like.

[BullGear]

I know I'm old. I know we are in another time. But I had a flood of memories come back to me from my childhood years.

How many remember going into your dad's old coffee can full of new and used nails? Leaving the new ones and picking the bent used nails? Then you go outside and bang them onto concrete or another wooden board? Then you could use them to build that skateboard. The one where you used a broken pair of skates to build the wheels on the 2x4 piece of wood.

Anyone still have their skate key???

 

[BLEE]

I just bought my sister's half of my dad's home and property and moved in, this past weekend. Flood of memories is an understatement! Recalling the cigarette smoke filled living room, circa 1975. I was the remote control and there was no cable, thank goodness! Recalling us working in the yard and garden, most every weekend, from April, through October. Remembering my dad and two or three of the neighbors, playing country music and drinking beer, in his work shop, on Saturday nights. Yes, sir, lots of memories, good and not so good. When I became an adult I chose to remember the best and forget the rest, because we became close and had a great relationship, until he passed in March. These and many more great memories, indeed!

 

[mvphilly]

Building go carts with old baby carriage wheels.Born in 1961 grew up in some of the best decades ever. Would sell my soul(if i had one ) to go back one more go round.

 

[Snipe260]

Setting fire to a crack house. You could see the smoke from across the city! I was 11 I think!

 

[mvphilly]

LOL a pyro maniac too!! I set fire to the local middle school after me and my friends broke all the windows.Also had a nice fire going along side the local supermarket.

 

[acudaowner]

favorite child hood memories was building a nail less tree fort 6 kids all falling from the same tree none of us understanding exactly where we messed up lol

 

[lonegunman762x51]

When I was about 4 years old, I realized I lived in a house full of fucking idiots. I grew up in a room with my brother, he sat on his bottom bunk picking his nose and digging shit out of his toenails and smelling it for 16 years. I had a sister who ate nothing but candy until she was 12 or so. People who had those parents who looked at your report cards or cared about your schooling are a mystery to me. My parents could have cared less. By the time I was 6 or 7, I spent my summers outdoors until dark. When I was old enough to push a mower, I mowed yards for money for school clothes and extras I wanted to buy. My mom would steal any money she found or get nasty and charge me for rides or meals until she got half. I had no idea what grace was and the first time I heard someone say it before dinner I was mystified. We drove by every church on our way to eat Chinese food on Sunday. My parents hated God more than they hated their children, hahahahaha.

By high school, I was self funded and my parents thankfully divorced. My mother moved in with a drunk from Boston and my dad could care less what I did all day as long as I brought home a loaf of bread and gallon of milk sometimes. Every now and then my dad would take me to a gun show or something and once in a while we would go hunting together. Otherwise I literally grew up doing whatever I wanted and going to school. I maintained an honor roll gpa and was in JROTC. I graduated in 1981, in lieu of going to the ceremony, I was on a plane to Europe for the summer. I went to Spain for 3 months, came home, moved out and then found a job, a year later I joined the military and left, never to return. I live diagonally across the North American continent from the ones that are left, they live in Florida and apparently parole rules keep them from traveling to the Pacific Northwest.

Yeah, it was a different time and place. The best thing about it was no one cared what you did 90% of the time. No cell phones or electronic tethers to follow you around. You could grab your fishing pole and bike and go to the lake or river for the day and fish all day. I made extra cash selling catfish and carp to a couple of old black ladies who lived on the way home from the lake. If I picked them blackberries, they would bake me a cobbler for the trouble, it was always awesome. Me and my buddy Anthony would buy a half gallon of ice cream and eat a cobbler and ice cream until we were overdosed on sugar, it was awesome. For even more extra money, we would catch escaped chickens from the Holly Farms processing plant and sell them live for a dollar each.

 

[The D]

When I was about 4 years old, I realized I lived in a house full of fucking idiots. I grew up in a room with my brother, he sat on his bottom bunk picking his nose and digging shit out of his toenails and smelling it for 16 years. I had a sister who ate nothing but candy until she was 12 or so. People who had those parents who looked at your report cards or cared about your schooling are a mystery to me. My parents could have cared less. By the time I was 6 or 7, I spent my summers outdoors until dark. When I was old enough to push a mower, I mowed yards for money for school clothes and extras I wanted to buy. My mom would steal any money she found or get nasty and charge me for rides or meals until she got half. I had no idea what grace was and the first time I heard someone say it before dinner I was mystified. We drove by every church on our way to eat Chinese food on Sunday. My parents hated God more than they hated their children, hahahahaha.

By high school, I was self funded and my parents thankfully divorced. My mother moved in with a drunk from Boston and my dad could care less what I did all day as long as I brought home a loaf of bread and gallon of milk sometimes. Every now and then my dad would take me to a gun show or something and once in a while we would go hunting together. Otherwise I literally grew up doing whatever I wanted and going to school. I maintained an honor roll gpa and was in JROTC. I graduated in 1981, in lieu of going to the ceremony, I was on a plane to Europe for the summer. I went to Spain for 3 months, came home, moved out and then found a job, a year later I joined the military and left, never to return. I live diagonally across the North American continent from the ones that are left, they live in Florida and apparently parole rules keep them from traveling to the Pacific Northwest.

Yeah, it was a different time and place. The best thing about it was no one cared what you did 90% of the time. No cell phones or electronic tethers to follow you around. You could grab your fishing pole and bike and go to the lake or river for the day and fish all day. I made extra cash selling catfish and carp to a couple of old black ladies who lived on the way home from the lake. If I picked them blackberries, they would bake me a cobbler for the trouble, it was always awesome. Me and my buddy Anthony would buy a half gallon of ice cream and eat a cobbler and ice cream until we were overdosed on sugar, it was awesome. For even more extra money, we would catch escaped chickens from the Holly Farms processing plant and sell them live for a dollar each.

Jesus… I know this doesn’t mean much but I’m so sorry you had to endure that.

 

[BuildingConceptsllc]

When I was about 4 years old, I realized I lived in a house full of fucking idiots. I grew up in a room with my brother, he sat on his bottom bunk picking his nose and digging shit out of his toenails and smelling it for 16 years. I had a sister who ate nothing but candy until she was 12 or so. People who had those parents who looked at your report cards or cared about your schooling are a mystery to me. My parents could have cared less. By the time I was 6 or 7, I spent my summers outdoors until dark. When I was old enough to push a mower, I mowed yards for money for school clothes and extras I wanted to buy. My mom would steal any money she found or get nasty and charge me for rides or meals until she got half. I had no idea what grace was and the first time I heard someone say it before dinner I was mystified. We drove by every church on our way to eat Chinese food on Sunday. My parents hated God more than they hated their children, hahahahaha.

By high school, I was self funded and my parents thankfully divorced. My mother moved in with a drunk from Boston and my dad could care less what I did all day as long as I brought home a loaf of bread and gallon of milk sometimes. Every now and then my dad would take me to a gun show or something and once in a while we would go hunting together. Otherwise I literally grew up doing whatever I wanted and going to school. I maintained an honor roll gpa and was in JROTC. I graduated in 1981, in lieu of going to the ceremony, I was on a plane to Europe for the summer. I went to Spain for 3 months, came home, moved out and then found a job, a year later I joined the military and left, never to return. I live diagonally across the North American continent from the ones that are left, they live in Florida and apparently parole rules keep them from traveling to the Pacific Northwest.

Yeah, it was a different time and place. The best thing about it was no one cared what you did 90% of the time. No cell phones or electronic tethers to follow you around. You could grab your fishing pole and bike and go to the lake or river for the day and fish all day. I made extra cash selling catfish and carp to a couple of old black ladies who lived on the way home from the lake. If I picked them blackberries, they would bake me a cobbler for the trouble, it was always awesome. Me and my buddy Anthony would buy a half gallon of ice cream and eat a cobbler and ice cream until we were overdosed on sugar, it was awesome. For even more extra money, we would catch escaped chickens from the Holly Farms processing plant and sell them live for a dollar each.

You never know what kind of home life someone comes from or what they had to overcome to be who they are. It always leaves scars, even if it's overcome. Good for you and good riddence to bad rubbish!

 

[Tchitcherine]

Model rockets. You know the rest.

 

[The D]

I grew up in a community around a lake in the middle of nowhere farm country. Every time I’m near a scuzzy lake it reminds me of my childhood. It reminds me of fishing and camping with my family and grandparents

I remember working on cars with my dad, too.

Every time I hear a red-winged blackbird in the summer it takes me back to running around outside all summer long

I don’t really have any specific memories of my mother or grandmother, they were always just around and fixtures in my life

I have a soft spot for drag racing because of my dad and uncle(who have been partners in crime since high school, they just ended up marrying sisters).

And every time I hear a song from the Pantera album The Great Southern Trendkill I think of a couple summers during high school fuckin around with friends

 

[DarnYankeeUSMC]

And
Banana seat Schwinn with extended forks!!

 

[lonegunman762x51]

Jesus… I know this doesn’t mean much but I’m so sorry you had to endure that.

You know, when its all you know, you never know any different. These days I just equate it to being raised on a pirate ship or something of that nature. I made my peace with the dysfunctional family unit years ago.

When I was younger I had to learn a lot of really basic stuff as an adult. I enjoyed the Air Force and other than marrying a woman that was apparently picked for me by the Jerry Springer audience life has been pretty good. I got divorced from that shit show after five years and have never made that mistake again, lol. Things have been perfectly nice for years, I married a nice, normal woman and am living happily ever after.

 

[akmike47]

Getting lost in the woods for the whole day, and I don’t mean playing. It started out as playing miles later however...popping up at peoples houses “uh, where are we?”

 

[akmike47]

Model rockets. You know the rest.

Allegedly I launched one inside the house somehow...allegedly.

 

[The D]

You know, when its all you know, you never know any different. These days I just equate it to being raised on a pirate ship or something of that nature. I made my peace with the dysfunctional family unit years ago.

When I was younger I had to learn a lot of really basic stuff as an adult. I enjoyed the Air Force and other than marrying a woman that was apparently picked for me by the Jerry Springer audience life has been pretty good. I got divorced from that shit show after five years and have never made that mistake again, lol. Things have been perfectly nice for years, I married a nice, normal woman and am living happily ever after.

You just made everything sound so much cooler by saying it was like being raised on a pirate ship, lol.

Thankfully I mostly avoided the crazy train when I was younger. I never got too involved and was able to bail on some women when I saw the eyes start twitching. Now, I thank any god that will listen for guiding me to my wonderful, boring wife. The only drama in our house is caused by the kids…

 

[Carlos Danger]

Playing in the woods around our house, occasionally remembering the smell of it the day we moved in, playing with friends at my aunt's house, kneeling on dried dog food holding a stool over my head, fishing at the neighbors house, mowing lawns and doing yard work for money.

 

[ZiaHunter]

Not exactly childhood but teenager memory. I was playing on the West Point Auxiliary services Hockey team and just gotten my drivers license. I was returning from practice late one evening in the middle of January and about an hour drive from where I lived. I am in the middle of nowhere on the Palisades Parkway and all of a sudden all of the lights in the vehicle go off. WTF 2' feet of snow on the ground and the road is deserted except for me. Thankfully the emergency blinkers still worked and threw enough light to keep me on the road albeit at 15 mph. Drove which seemed to take forever until I came to the small town adjacent to mine. Next thing there are flashing lights in the rear view mirror. Cop pulls me over and asks what the hell am I doing. I explain to him what happened and just looks at me shaking his head. He says follow me and escorts me to my home in the next town.

 

[mvphilly]

Model rockets. You know the rest.

Wow forgot all about that one but not model rockets. We bought fireworks and they were like rockets with a steel rod to put in the ground to guide takeoff. Anyway we took out the lady fingers that were in the nose cone and replaced the "payload' with M-8os. Well the rocket couldnt stabilize the additional weight and did a rainbow dive onto my friends neighbors roof. It blew up and made a nice hole in the roof too. We took off running but forgot my friends dad was having a inground pool put in and the hole was just dug and down we went. Needless to say busted on all accounts.

 

[vinniedelpino]

Setting fire to a crack house. You could see the smoke from across the city! I was 11 I think!

Hold on a sweet minute Snipe.

Around her we call that arson, which is a felony. In seven states there's no statute of limitations for such a crime.

That's a memory best shared on your death bed.

 

[BullGear]

On the rare occasion my parents had a quarter to give me, I would walk to the neighborhood store and buy a tastykake and get a bottle of coke. The owner wouldn't charge me for the deposit on the coke bottle if I would sit on the steps and have my treat right there. I'd return the bottle and then walk home feeling like a king.

 

[Bigfatcock]

I think back fondly on the first time I realized that fat women have pussies too.

 

[Whiskey Tango Foxtrot]

The smell of creosote docks in the summer when I would get to see my ol man, which wasn't often.

Still love that smell

Exploring in the woods ALL day.
Still do that just not all day.

 

[37L1]

 

[AuNEagle]

Awesome topic!

When I was young (rural South Dakota), my dad, his brother and my grandfather ran a small road construction / maintenance business. I grew up around bulldozers, road graders, large trucks, gravel "quarries", etc. My cousins, brother and I had about every Tonka toy available at that time. Lord only knows how many miles of 6" wide "road" we made during that time period. Oh, and these were the real sheet metal Tonka toys, sharp edges and all.

My dad and my uncle made us a go-kart using a frame they built themselves and a motor from a lawnmower IIRC. We (boys aged 5-7) had a blast tearing around on that thing.

A couple of my cousins and I would shoot gophers (.22 rifles) in various fields for farmers around the area. We would cut off their tails and got a 5-cent bounty for each tail we collected. Gophers are so stupid. You could miss one, whistle and it would stand right up again for a follow-up shot. We did this mostly without any adult supervision and never had an issue. But we had been taught the proper way to safely handle a rifle and took that privilege seriously.

My grandmother ran the post office and small grocery store in our small town. I remember bottles of pop costing a nickel. Occasionally she would let us all pick an ice cream or candy treat of our choosing from the store.

In the summer we were basically kicked out of house in the morning, told to come back when we were hungry for lunch, and then kicked out again until supper. Our "playground" consisted of things like a baseball diamond we built ourselves on a vacant lot, all of the construction/farming equipment setting idle around the area, the remains of a couple of grain elevators that had burned down years before, the local landfill, etc. No way our parents wouldn't have been arrested for child endangerment if we had grown up in the world we have today.

 

[Snipe260]

Hold on a sweet minute Snipe.

Around her we call that arson, which is a felony. In seven states there's no statute of limitations for such a crime.

That's a memory best shared on your death bed.

But look at all the children I saved!

 

[The D]

But look at all the children I saved!

If it saves one life

 

[Jgault]

A memory not good at the time but makes me smile now was my first hunting trip where I would be able to hunt on my own. Up before dawn, I had already been up before everyone out of excitement. My uncle asked me if my rifle had one in the chamber before we got in the truck, I said no, well there was. I spent the rest of the day walking in the woods(well what passes for woods in Texas) with a gun without a bolt. I spent a good part of the morning being mad, then I sat down next to a tree. It was amazing seeing the woods come alive after I had been quiet. I learned two things, I’ve never been wrong about my gun being unloaded since, and being mad walking through the woods is the quickest way not to see a damned thing. I told my son that story the first time we hunted together, and in 8 years he’s never left a gun loaded unless it was meant to be. I can’t trust him to take the trash out at 16, but I don’t have any issue trusting him with firearms.

 

[n2ishun]

I remember being about 5-6 and doing the normal young boy thing.
I dug a hole in the back yard.....quite the large hole
This was in Southern California (to place the crime scene appropriately).
I found a live round and I kept that thing till I was in my 40's or so.
Although somewhat corroded (really not all that bad) I measured it when I was older and knew WTF I was doing.
It was a .60 caliber rimfire (yes you read that right) and it was short, very similar in length to a 45acp (close as I could measure the case it was 19mm, or 3/4 inch long).
To this day I have never found out what exactly it was, what gun it fit, what it might have been called....nothing, zero data about it.
When my mother died (she still lived in that house) I went into the backyard and buried that round as close to the original place as I could reckon.

Anyone ever hear of a .60 caliber rimfire ?
I know roughly where it is....if it's worth anything.

 

[Jgault]

I remember being about 5-6 and doing the normal young boy thing.
I dug a hole in the back yard.....quite the large hole
This was in Southern California (to place the crime scene appropriately).
I found a live round and I kept that thing till I was in my 40's or so.
Although somewhat corroded (really not all that bad) I measured it when I was older and knew WTF I was doing.
It was a .60 caliber rimfire (yes you read that right) and it was short, very similar in length to a 45acp (close as I could measure the case it was 19mm, or 3/4 inch long).
To this day I have never found out what exactly it was, what gun it fit, what it might have been called....nothing, zero data about it.
When my mother died (she still lived in that house) I went into the backyard and buried that round as close to the original place as I could reckon.

Anyone ever hear of a .60 caliber rimfire ?
I know roughly where it is....if it's worth anything.

I have no idea but I’m not a kid anymore but still want to dig it up.

 

[Maser]

 

[Maggot]

Growing up in rural Virginia, going outside at night and seeing the Milky Way lighting the shy like you never see it now. And the silence...it got so quiet you could hear the snow fall ...until it stopped then nothing. Absolute silence can be disturbing at first.

Standing on top of the Great Pyramid at Giza and seeing nothing but sand and the green of the Nile river Valley in the distance.

 

[NH4X]

I'll be back later to write a " book of childhood memories " if I have a mind to..... I'll end this post by saying.......I've been Blessed and Thank My Lord for it.

 

[Sirshredalot]

Making sketchy ass bike ramp out of broken bricks and drywall remants(which crumbled as soon as i hit them)

Riding my bike to the tobacco store to buy cigarettes for my parents and getting to buy used vhs tapes that my folks didnt approve of(harley davidson and the marlboro man/rambo)

Jumping off of roofs for fun and dad saying we would regret it someday(ouch, i do).

Bottle rocket fights.

Finding out that a rope tied to a belt loop on my levis wont support the weight of a 60lb kid that jumps out of a tree house.

Getting ass whippings that i deserved.

Shred

 

[akmike47]

I remember being about 5-6 and doing the normal young boy thing.
I dug a hole in the back yard.....quite the large hole
This was in Southern California (to place the crime scene appropriately).
I found a live round and I kept that thing till I was in my 40's or so.
Although somewhat corroded (really not all that bad) I measured it when I was older and knew WTF I was doing.
It was a .60 caliber rimfire (yes you read that right) and it was short, very similar in length to a 45acp (close as I could measure the case it was 19mm, or 3/4 inch long).
To this day I have never found out what exactly it was, what gun it fit, what it might have been called....nothing, zero data about it.
When my mother died (she still lived in that house) I went into the backyard and buried that round as close to the original place as I could reckon.

Anyone ever hear of a .60 caliber rimfire ?
I know roughly where it is....if it's worth anything.

Peabody maybe?

This fired a 50-60 rimfire

Maybe it was a 56-52, 56-50, or 56-56 spencer

 

[S Roche]

Bought the 1000 packs of 1960's Black cats, pulled the fuse and rolled them to empty the powder into a 1" x 4" pieces of copper tubing, wound about 3 or 4 fuses together and then touched them off. Learned a lot about shrapnel and probably part of the reason my ears ring today and have a 1" scar on my arm. But it was exciting at 15. I can't tell you how many times I've heard WTF were you thinking.

 

[akmike47]

Bought the 1000 packs of 1960's Black cats, pulled the fuse and rolled them to empty the powder into a 1" x 4" pieces of copper tubing, wound about 3 or 4 fuses together and then touched them off. Learned a lot about shrapnel and probably part of the reason my ears ring today and have a 1" scar on my arm. But it was exciting at 15. I can't tell you how many times I've heard WTF were you thinking.

Allegedly made “rocket fuel” as kids and lit my buddies yard on fire lol

 

[BullGear]

One of the things I remember occurring several times in my young years.

Thinking of something cool and acting on it only to find my father walking towards me with his belt in hand........

 

[Tempest 455]

My dad was former Army, a Chem Eng, owned a biz and had extensive lab in basement of house. Way before internet in the 80's I would read his chemistry books for hours on end. Learned how to make a few things.

Made a big something one time and placed in front yard with a buddy while he was in back yard. Went BOOM and rained mud for a min or so and left huge crater in front yard. He came running. When he saw the result, he didn't say a word but left and came back with wheel barrow and shovel. Didn't say a word to me but I knew what to do.

Good memories!

 

[The D]

Making sketchy ass bike ramp out of broken bricks and drywall remants(which crumbled as soon as i hit them)

My 2 oldest sons have started riding their bikes without training wheels the past few summers and the first thing they did was rummage around the garage for some scrap wood to make ramps. I can’t wait until the youngest(turning 1 in a month) joins them in their mayhem. Wait…yes I can. The oldest and youngest have hemophilia so I have that to worry about on top of everything else young boys do

 

[Jefe's Dope]

When I was five, I went dumpster diving with a friend. The kind of dumpster you entered through a sliding door on the side, not the top. Sure enough we got dumped into the trash truck. My buddy started crying like a little bitch while I tried to show him how to climb out where we got dumped in. The sides had triangle type supports welded in you could use to climb out. I looked up and said to him that the roof looked like it was coming down. It was. He was crying so loud the two trash guys could hear and ended up stopping the compactor and opening the back door they emptied out of. Their eyes opened like saucers. They pulled us out and took us home. I begged and pleaded to not tell my mom. He told. I got grounded for a week. Had to sit on the sitters bed all day. It was torture.

 

[Jscb1b]

Someone lit my mom's prize roses on fire.

 

[Emerson0311]

Hauling ass down the trail on a dogsled (family truckster) and the shaft dog decided to shit. Sat down almost on the front of the sled and let ‘er rip, while the sled tried to run him over and the other dogs were WTF?? Can smell the dog scent shit as I type.

 

[mvphilly]

Awesome topic!

When I was young (rural South Dakota), my dad, his brother and my grandfather ran a small road construction / maintenance business. I grew up around bulldozers, road graders, large trucks, gravel "quarries", etc. My cousins, brother and I had about every Tonka toy available at that time. Lord only knows how many miles of 6" wide "road" we made during that time period. Oh, and these were the real sheet metal Tonka toys, sharp edges and all.

My dad and my uncle made us a go-kart using a frame they built themselves and a motor from a lawnmower IIRC. We (boys aged 5-7) had a blast tearing around on that thing.

A couple of my cousins and I would shoot gophers (.22 rifles) in various fields for farmers around the area. We would cut off their tails and got a 5-cent bounty for each tail we collected. Gophers are so stupid. You could miss one, whistle and it would stand right up again for a follow-up shot. We did this mostly without any adult supervision and never had an issue. But we had been taught the proper way to safely handle a rifle and took that privilege seriously.

My grandmother ran the post office and small grocery store in our small town. I remember bottles of pop costing a nickel. Occasionally she would let us all pick an ice cream or candy treat of our choosing from the store.

In the summer we were basically kicked out of house in the morning, told to come back when we were hungry for lunch, and then kicked out again until supper. Our "playground" consisted of things like a baseball diamond we built ourselves on a vacant lot, all of the construction/farming equipment setting idle around the area, the remains of a couple of grain elevators that had burned down years before, the local landfill, etc. No way our parents wouldn't have been arrested for child endangerment if we had grown up in the world we have today.

That sounds like paradise.

 

[mvphilly]

This thread has me thinking about those wonderful days of yesteryear.I grew up in Westchester County NY and they had an actual rifle range(.22s) in the basement of the County Center!!!! In liberal NYS!! Thats where I learned to shoot at 8 years old. Still remember the smell of the powder.

 

[n2ishun]

Man, I had completely forgotten about this one.
Hang on, it gets fun

When we were 13-14 or so, me, my step bro, and a few friends used to ride the last bus at night down to Newport Harbor in Cali, fish all night, and take the first morning bus back to analslime...anaheim, whatever.
We fished behind Davies Locker, pretty much a landmark out there.
I caught a roughly 5 foot blue shark and we all decided it would be cool to cut the jaws out of it....try and imagine, this was about when the movie Jaws was a big thing.
So we, not having anything sharp enough on us, decided to take it home with us and do the dirty at home.
No prob, stuff it in a burlap sack and take it home on the bus.
The bus driver knew us all so it was a non issue.
Once at home it was no problem to get the jaws out and boil them clean.....made a nice display.
OK, now what do we do with the carcass ?
I do not recall which of us came up with the brilliant idea of stuffing it into the curbside gutter at the end of the block (something about it leads to the ocean printed on it might have swayed us towards this).
Well, about a week or so later there came this funky odor in the neighborhood.
And it got worse......I mean gagging a cockroach bad.
The cops came, firetrucks were in attendance, hazmat crews....you name it.
It probably took them 6-8 hours of searching to find the gutter was the issue.
None of us ever said a word (although trying to keep straight faces was very difficult) and none of us ever got blamed.
Some cop came to the conclusion that it must have swam into there and died when it got stuck and the gutter dried up.
My step bro, being a honest to god card carrying math club dweeb, jumped to the front and told the cops that he had heard of such thing happening and was currently doing a school report on the subject.
The cop offered to give him full copies of his findings and fully supported the lying little asshat which could not have worked out better.
To this day, only us (at the time) young fishermen know the truth of the story.
Yes, the Orange County Register (local newspaper) did a story on it.

 

[Baron23]

A Coke in the OG thick bottles that came out of a chest cooler type vending machine. Remember them? Open the lid, put your nickel or dime on the slot, then slide the next bottle that’s hanging by its neck thru the track until you got to the little gate that opened cause you paid.
Then get a penny back on deposit.

Also, Tarzan swing in the woods behind the neighborhood. Rope, old tire, swing out over the gully. We managed to survive stuff…and thought it was great fun…that the twinkies of today would call child abuse. Lol

Oh, kids piled on a toboggan. I mean every 7 y.o. We could stack on it, in western PA where had lots of hills. Damn thing couldn’t be steered and we didn’t care. Haha

 

[NH4X]

Nov. 1968 ( age 10 )...My first deer hunt. Rode 85 miles to hunting place ( left the house at 3am ). Climb on JD 4020 with Daddy and " Man", proceed for a mile or two and cross low water bridge. Come out the other side,go 2-3 hundred yards, tractor runs outta fuel. Daddy sends "Man" back to truck to pissant 5gal fuel back to tractor,while we trudge across the non frozen tundra of the Big Black swamp (didn't see any dental floss trees on the way ,we weren't in Montana ,nor did we have any pigmy ponies to ride,....wish we would have ).....anyway, we trudge across that damn gumbo ,for a mile and get set up just inside the tree line (good daylight by then) .Daddy sits my little ass down facing the way the dogs would be coming from. I commence to pull out my cub scout pocket knife and go to whittling on a sapling (single shot 410,that" Uncle Brother" had given daddy years before, across my lap......extractor fucked up and had to ramrod empty hull out ,once it was fired ) Hear dogs a coming, they running hell outta somethin, getting closer and closer , coming right to us.Daddy said get ready son......what ever that was supposed to mean.....hell, I didn't know how to get ready. Daddy sees deer coming, it had horns ( which was a must back then to shoot.....legally ) he says to me its a buck shoot it son , and then HE fires off 3rds from his non trusty model 94 dirty thirty.......all misses .I calmly raised my 410 ( with no front bead on barrel ,yeah....I'd banana spilt the barrel a year or so before,"shooting mud" out tha barrel ,that got there while I was squirrel huntin in tha creek.....daddy hack sawed barrel,handed back to me ) crock hammer ,aimed..led running deer and pulled trigger. Deer rolled up DRT...........Now's when this adventure takes a " You won't believe this shit moment ".......Daddy's hollerin you got him son and whips out his knife, spreads it's legs to cut it nuts out........BUT WEREN'T NO NUTS TO CUT.......a genuine morphadite .......A Doe with horns .

Some may think this is just made up bullshit,and that's ok.....but the newspaper articles and pictures that I have ,stand as 2nd and 3rd witness..... This story/ childhood memory is probably a " One for the History Books " and I lived it. The End......for now

I may or may not tell the story about the "Puma Double Lock blade Knife " bought in La.that went to Africa (not with me ),then was left in a swamp where I was skinning nutra rats, then dropped in mud tanks in the Ok. Oilfield ect ect......but that happened after my childhood.

 

[Thumper580]

Putting M80's in mailboxes....

 

[NH4X]

One of the things I remember occurring several times in my young years.

Thinking of something cool and acting on it only to find my father walking towards me with his belt in hand........

From the time I can remember, to around age 8-9.....Only time I saw daddy ,he was asleep in the bed ( My 5th or 6th Christmas he was awake and playing with me ) because ,back then he was running from here to Seattle Wa. every 7 days ( all two lane roads back then ) in an 18 wheeler.

Momma had the duty of keeping my little ass in line........and boy ,she knew how to put an ass whoopin on me. Peach tree right beside tha back door and it weren't no shuckin the knots off them limbs........whelps on my ass and legs looked like washboard. Didn't take me long before I got wise enough not to get caught fuckin up.