An evil is stalking the world now that wasn’t here when I was a child. Maybe it’s been here all along, but as a kid I never saw it lurking near the cotton fields of North Alabama. We knew what the devil was, of course, from going to West Huntsville Baptist Church every Sunday morning and night, but I don’t think it crossed our minds to think that he was walking the same path as us.
It’s different for kids today. They can’t have the same advantages that I had growing up because it’s too dangerous to leave them alone! Because something bad and ugly could be behind the next bush, kids are missing out on some important steps of growing up.
Sadly, I doubt my grandchildren will ever experience the forbidden thrill of smoking vine and pretending it was a cigarette. Except for burning our tongues when trying to smoke those sticks that we pretended were cigarettes, I can’t recall any lasting damage we did. Of course we didn’t tell our parents, because they would have kicked us for even thinking about smoking. That is the experimental stage.
I remember walking home, after spending the day fishing in the creek about a mile from the house. I can still smell the tar that bubbled and cracked on the gravel road as my friend and I jogged on the shoulder, because the road was too hot for our bare feet. I don’t recall catching fish of any size, but being alone without adult supervision was a big part of our transition to men.
We can’t let our kids have so much fun today. Sometimes I think my grandkids are too sheltered by their parents, but then I hear on the news about a 12-year-old boy who was kidnapped, sexually abused, and murdered just a few miles from where we live and I realize I’m not living in the same world I grew up in.
Playing hooky from school is a very important part of growing up. It gives a youngster the opportunity to spread his wings and fly where he has never gone before! Jesse Haney and I sneaked out of the schoolyard a long time ago, right after math class, and went rabbit hunting. This January morning was so cold that anyone with a little common sense stayed inside. The rabbits must have been smarter than us because we never saw one.
We had timed our escape perfectly; this particular morning there was a substitute teacher for the next three classes who didn’t know us at all. Recognizing an opportunity when he slipped and hit us on the head, we were off school property when the bell rang for the next class. We ran up the hill behind the school building, headed a block to Jesse’s house, where we grabbed two twenty-gauge single-shot shotguns and a half-box of shells.
At twelve, most kids had shotguns if we wanted them and most of us did. We were taught not only to respect weapons, but also to admire them. This was all part of growing up, but if he had shot me, my mom would have killed me. Few 13-year-olds today are responsible enough not to shoot each other. Also, a kid with a gun today would probably get arrested, especially if he was hunting during school hours.
Another part of growing up was camping in the woods across the cotton field from our house. During summer nights we would hear the sounds of vermin in the woods near where we tried to sleep. In addition to the animals lurking in the dark, we were convinced there were ghosts and goblins waiting for us to come out of the store.
One comforting thing that sustained us through those scary and exciting nights of our youth was our parents’ orders that we always keep the porch light in sight so we could find our way home in the dark. The knowledge that help was in sight was comforting, even if we would never have admitted it.
The America that I stumbled across on my way to adulthood had its own brand of evil, but I don’t think it was as bad as what children face today.