Let’s skoot back to about 1952. I was indeed much younger then. I was not the only mischievous youngster living up on Church Hill area in Strong Maine. There was quite a bit of us around the same age. I remember one time they called us War Babies. We never did go to war and that puzzled me for a while.  Well, there were three in my family.  Three more in the White family that lived in the big house. Then as you went towards town there were three Breaus.  Go a bit further and yes, there were more Whites. Now this is just counting those that were around the same age.
School was out for the summer and all the families had one steadfast rule. If the sun was out, we were to be outside playing. Those houses were just not big enough for playing inside on days such as that. Our energy tanks were full to overflowing. The other rule was when we heard our names, we were to reply. Many times, I was too deep into the woods to hear my name. I was in trouble again. But there were days a whole bunch of us got together to figure out what to do for the day. This surely spelled disaster for somebody. The most of us just did not have any fear of another whooping or getting a bit banged up. Heck as long as we were not bleeding, we had to suffer it out. Even at times, the quantity of that precious red fluid seeping out just meant put a rag on it and go back out to play. We didn’t usually wear shoes unless we were going visiting. While around the house, there was no need for shoes. Why wear them then, when we really didn’t need them on. There was one time, I was running barefoot through the puddles and stepped on a broken piece of glass.  I just got er all wrapped up and went back out to play.  Things such as this just helped my immune system. I was the type of young fella that could play in poison ivy and not have a problem. But, on this one day we got bored, very bored.  All of us got together for sort of a clan gathering. We had already been kicked out of the hay loft. The old farmer was afraid we would fall and break our necks. That is what he said anyway.  Someone came up with the idea of a green apple fight. This is similar to a snowball fight, only using green apples. Not even thinking they just might hurt a little.  As long as there was no blood, then no foul. Once you got hit beside the head with a green apple, you surely paid attention after that.  Soon, the distances got too far to throw the apple, so we devised a way to sling them with specially cut tree branches. The apples would indeed go further and even a bit faster. There was not much control where you hit someone though.  That did not last too long, so we picked the barn as the target. When we heard that tinkle. tinkle of glass, we disappeared like a puff of smoke. The Billy Goat must have done it was the story we came up with.

I am not sure if one of us had more imagination than the other. I do remember we had to make our own toys out of whatever we could find. That just fueled our imagination a bit. There were times, we went to Boston and back in those old junk cars. Yes, and there were times we did things to those cars that did not please our dads. Things such as a pretend accident had to end up with dents here and there.
There are a lot of things I probably should not tell about in here though. There was nothing mean, but definitely something society would frown on.  We might be playing war games and needed stuff that went bang. Not just a little bang, but one everyone on the hill could hear. If one of us said a scary deed, then our imaginations kicked in on how to get it done. But you know something folks? This is how things got invented, we just didn’t know all that stuff.  We did indeed come up with some really strange contraptions.   Ken White   COB mountainman