Here is an example of a true “free range” kid: We spent our summers in Aspen just after WWII. My grandfather had a house there. My brother’s and my job was to bring the coal in from the barn so the maid could cook breakfast. After breakfast we went to the mountains where there were: bears, mountain lions, snakes, a lot of water as the snow was melting, and horror of horrors — abandoned silver mines. My father was born and raised there. Don’t remember either of our parents so much as ever saying, “Be careful.” We all survived our summers in Aspen. But that was then.
When I was raising my kids, the rule was “be home when the street lights come on.” They could roam all over Winterwood, but they were forbidden to cross Nellis. Two of the largest washes ended up on the Winterwood golf course. Which flooded out every time it rained. My kids survived.
