Amy says we’re a safer nation these days. I say we’re too cautious. Americans are afraid of everything, so much so that we’ve quit some activities. That’s not quite how things were in the 60’s and before.
Children today ride bikes just as we did. However, they are outfitted with all sorts of safety equipment: helmets, reflectors, rear view mirrors—accessories to protect young’uns from being hurt. Our bikes were regular ones. Only the richest kids had three speed bikes. Most bikes went only as fast as two pumping legs could propel them. Just riding bored us, so in no time at all we were practicing riding without using our hands or we were jumping bikes from ramps constructed with blocks and two-by-fours.
We had our share of accidents. On one occasion before I was big enough to ride a bike, one of the neighborhood boys sat me on the frame in front of the seat and rode me around the yard one and a half times. Then my bare toes were caught in the front wheel spokes. Yikes, it hurt, but I didn’t die from it. Neither did we succumb to other wrecks when we hit things or when dogs chased us. Sure we left plenty of hide along the asphalt paths where our knees and shins and bottoms slid, and sure, we shed plenty of tears when those unfortunate things occurred. The cure for all that was merthiolate or mecurochrome. Those products burned like the fires of hell, but they healed abrasions and cuts on all us boys. Having the orange-red medicine on a scrape was a badge of courage.
One thing’s for sure: we didn’t wear helmets. Back then, getting to most places meant kids rode bikes. Jim and I logged plenty of miles on trips to Hardin Valley, Karns, and Ball Camp. All the while, we never wore a helmet, unless we had one for football and were going to a back yard game. Some of us took a couple of blows to the head, something others might say accounts for our abnormal behavior. I’ve also known some guys who were separated from their bikes by riding into a clothes line at dusk. Still, not a single one of us had a helmet.
Skate boarders and in-line skaters spend hundreds of dollars on equipment that will keep them safe. When we were ten or eleven, Jim and I got skateboards for Christmas. Yes, they had them back that far. The ones we got were made of a piece of wood with a rounded nose and square back. Metal wheels like the ones on old skates were placed in pairs in front and back. Right outside my front door today is where we began our rides. The course took us down the hill to the cul-de-sac or, if we were daring enough, around the turn to another street.
Those metal wheels didn’t turn particularly well, and they were susceptible to object on the road’s surface. The smallest rock or even an acorn could stop the wheels from turning, thereby launching the rider forward. With luck the person could hit the road running. Otherwise, it was again time to paint body parts with medicines. My older brother broke his Christmas watch riding one of our boards; I never felt sorrier for him than when he did that.
What we didn’t have were helmets, knee and elbow pads, and gloves. Sure, we would have been safer, but being covered with those items took some of the adventure from the whole thing. Of course, we were smarter than today’s kids because none of us ever tried to ride a board down a hand rail or along the edge of a brick wall, nor did we try to complete tricks like jumping from the board, spinning it, and then again landing on it.
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