How Did We Ever Survive?

Draper Park, UT

The pavilion at Huffnagle Park, Quarryville PA

Last night Matthew was unusually tired at bedtime and hopped into bed with the light off. I took this as a sign that I could get out of story reading. He is destined to be a great negotiator because somehow we never end up reading the amount of books I specify but that's another post. In lieu of books, I asked him if he wanted me to tell him a story about "when I was a little girl".

I have to admit that I have a hard time coming up with stories that seem intriguing. My dad's stories always seemed more attractive than what I can muster up. Regardless, I took a stab and told him about the 19,453 hours I logged at Huffnagle Park located in the borough of Quarryville (yes, I technically grew up in a borough in a small hamlet in Southern Lancaster County, PA). I attempted to describe in as much detail as a drifting four year old would want, exactly how I repeatedly maneuvered the sledding hill. It was a gigantic hill--NOT. But it sure did seem like that back when I wore my snowmobile suit and carried a candle to wax the runners. Yes, those days are long gone. Sadly, sleds have come a long way baby.

Then I offered up narratives about my favorite pieces of playground equipment. The swings and merry-go-round seemed to mostly vie for my attention. I could swing all day. I was very careful not to ever walk in front or back of any swings because my mom told me repeatedly that John Lundwall got smacked in the head with a swing and had to have stitches. Yep, that was enough to keep me on high alert.

I have returned to Huffnagle Park the past few years when I've been home to give my kids my childhood experience. Alot has changed but the cement climbing turtle with faded yellow and red paint has stood the test of time.

After my little bundle was safely snoring (we probably should have him checked because he's rather loud) my mind took me back to the details of what now would be considered liability riddled equipment. How on earth did we ever survive? There was a tall metal free-standing sliding board. And yes there were "incidents" at the top--my brother had one--but my unsuspecting parents didn't think to sue the manufacturer and make us all rich. My mom just loaded him in the red wagon and rushed him around the corner for stitches to Dr. Helm who "practiced" out of the first floor office of his house on Church Street.

I think the swings had wooden seats when I was very small but were upgraded to rubber by pre-puberty. I distinctly recall that the baby swings were metal and horror of all horrors--did NOT have a saddle strap. Somehow I don't recall ever seeing a baby slide under and bounce off the grass.

And the the accident waiting to happen merry-go-round--how on earth did we do it? It had (gasp) blacktop under it of all things. Surely you would need a Band-Aid if you took a tumble. Strangely enough I don't recall ever falling off or remember anyone else ever falling off. Maybe we were stronger back then and had perfected our grip because we had less TV to watch. I don't know it worked but it did. The school even had a merry-go-round. Try to get that one past the PTA today. We didn't lose one borough child to that nasty equipment that I am aware of. If we did, my parents never mentioned it, but I'm going to have to go with my original conculsion because had we lost one, we would have all heard about it. The town is small.

I firmly believe in being safe. I certainly want my kids to be safe. A few years ago our favorite park in Draper upgraded it's playground equipment. There are barred open spaces to prevent kids from falling at towering heights and various other safety improvements, for which we are grateful. They did remove the metal digger which pinched fingers. That one was actually a good move. However, plastic bongo drums were also installed.

That's right--Plastic. Bongo. Drums.

Come on, if you're six, which would you rather have--a merry-go-round or a set of bongo drums?