There was an interesting show on T.V. last night about 2 young boys who dug out a fort in a snowbank and it collapsed on them. Luckily they were rescued but it took quite a while to find them.
It brought back a memory from when I was 7 or 8 years old (1947/8). In those days children went home from school for lunch. In those days, there was usually a stay at home Mom but in my case it was a stay at home Grandmother. After lunch was outdoor play time because there were no T.V., video games, or cell phones to amuse us.
It was wintertime with lots of snow piles on the road against the sidewalk. I don't even know if we had snow plows in those days! Anyway, my memory is of high piles of snow...maybe 4' high. Again, in those days it was normal for children to play outside on the street with no parental vigilance. The world was a much safer place then.
I don't remember digging out my fort with a shovel but might have done it with my hands. It was a lovely huge space with plenty of room for me to crawl inside and pretend I was the only person in the world. Kids love to do this.
No-one knew where I was because, in those days, children had much more freedom to wander where they wanted, just come home for meals and bedtime. I don't know how long my peaceful retreat lasted but I do remember the shock of it collapsing on me. I also remember thinking that it might not be a good idea that no-one knew where I was.
It took me a while to dig myself out but my saving grace was that it wasn't a huge snow pile or the weight of the snow might have been too heavy for me to move. I remember the relief I felt when I reached the air. I remember thinking I probably would not build another snow fort.
Funny, the things we remember and the things that might have turned out much worse than they did. It's the luck of the draw.
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