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| Our clubhouses were never this nice |
Oh, the woods. If you never grew up near any type of wooded area, you honestly missed an urgent matter of your childhood and should put this down, move to a wooded area and build a clubhouse to defend before reading any further.
Across the street from my boyhood home, behind a row of houses and up a small hill existed a mythic place for boys aged 5-10, and a place to hang out and be delinquents for those 13 and over. For we younger lads, the woods were to be explored throughout, clubs to be established and treasure to be found. For the teenagers, the woods belonged to them, they were there first.
While the specifics of how the war between the kids and teenagers began have long been lost to ages, here’s what probably happened:
My brother and a few of his friends from the other side of the woods were running around being 9-10 boys. Playing ‘guns,’ ‘hide-n-seek and building indestructible ‘forts’ out of found barbed wire and branches occupied summer days endlessly.
