NATURE'S CHILDREN: Free-range kids

I grew up when children weren't always under the watchful eye of an adult, when parents simply sent us outside with a cheerful, "Go play". I guess today you would call us free-range kids. We ran around the neighborhood, played games and explored the deep dark woods, which were neither deep nor dark. We used our imagination to turn the sidewalk into a raging river and the neighbor's cat into a stalking tiger. We fell down, skinned our knees and argued with each other. We learned that we didn't need an adult to settle a petty quarrel. We found a way to work it out. There was a tacit understanding that only the most egregious offenses would be reported to our parents, serious things like physical fights, big kids bullying little ones or, heaven forbid, throwing rocks at cars.

I remember the time the kids on the block got together to build a fort with old pieces of lumber. It was a grand undertaking. We worked under the direction of 8 year-old Pat. (When he grew up, Pat directed plays for a local theatre group, a skill no doubt honed during our backyard building project.) Pat divided us into teams. The older boys were the builder team. We younger ones made up the nail team and the tool team. Pat told us to go home, scour our basements and bring back what we needed. I did my part. My poor father spent a couple days looking for his hammer. We built a two-story, free standing structure, hidden away behind Pat's garage. Was there arguing? Yes! Were there hurt feelings? Of course! Did Joey bleed when he hit his thumb with a hammer? You bet'cha! But when our fort was finished, it was glorious. And we did it ourselves! Now, in hindsight, I realize that Pat's dad probably sneaked out there and shored up the structure without our knowledge. But what a gift, because even in those days of free-range children, adults tended to take over leaving kids to stand there and watch. But Pat's dad let us believe that we had done it without help. That was a powerful lesson in self sufficiency.

Imagine our delight when a reporter from the local paper, The Richmond Times Dispatch, wrote an article about our project. It included a picture of the fort surrounded by kids with Pat sitting on the roof. And imagine our fury when a building inspector from the city came by a few days later and told us to take it down. "Doesn't meet city code," he said. Despite our tears and angry protests, the order stood and our beautiful fort was reduced to rubble.

A rag-tag group of pint-sized builders, a gang of free-range children, we learned important life lessons from that experience. We learned to co-operate, to negotiate, to lead and to follow. We learned to take pride in our work and to persist until the job was finished. And for better or worse, we learned......ya can't fight city hall!

Betsy Saunders

December 8, 2025