Sunday, September 22, 2002

Everyday


Kids, life is hardball, but don't play in the street

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        When I was a kid, we used a rubber-coated hardball to throw ground balls on the street. Every so often, the ball skipped off a crack in the asphalt and binged into Old Man Pahler's yard.

        Old Man Pahler was about 106. He loved his lawn and hated kids. He had a Rottweiler. There were no hidden shock fences to contain dogs back then. When our ball bounced into his yard, Mr. Pahler sent the Rottweiler out to fetch it. The ball might as well have vanished down the sewer hole. We never saw that ball again.

        This is what they need now in Forest Park, where the adults have forgotten what it's like to be a child. City Council there last week passed a law that bans children from playing in the street.

        Most places, you'd like your kids playing just about anywhere. Because if they're playing, they're not smoking weed or drinking from a paper bag or driving too fast with friends.

        Not in Forest Park. The little hell-raisers were playing basketball and setting up skate ramps. Occasionally, their rampant, wanton playing interfered with someone getting to his or her driveway. As many as 30 children would be out on the street, playing together. They had to be stopped.

        By a 6-0 vote, Forest Park council decided such playing would cease. “We need clear guidelines and regulations,” City Manager Ray Hodges told the Enquirer.

        I called Mr. Hodges last week. I figured there had to be more to this.

        Maybe the kids were sneaking the old man's Playboy, sharing Springer Show stories, doing wheelies in someone's yard or performing other equally criminal acts. Because kids have been playing in the street since we made streets. Since we made kids.

        “Am I missing something?” I asked the manager. Nope. They were just playing.

        Mr. Hodges explained it's not a major problem in Forest Park: “99 out of 100 times, if you ask kids to move, they will.” The law just “puts teeth” into an ordinance that already exists.

        Then he said many of the problems existed in cul de sacs. Forest Park has lots of cul de sacs. It's a reason people move there. People with kids.

        See, when you live on a cul de sac, you don't have to worry much about traffic. Your kids can play close to the house, safely, without fear of becoming roadkill. They can do this, generally, on the street.

        Except in Forest Park, where the cul-de-sacs will be cleansed of playing children having fun.

        Now they can be kids in the park or in the yard or, more likely, in front of the TV. I don't know about you, but where I live if I see one kid playing anywhere it's cause for celebration.

        Kids now don't play unless it's organized, they have uniforms and a ride in somebody's minivan.

        They don't choose sides by grasping the bat handle, they don't argue over who gets to be Pete Rose, they don't drink from the hose when they're done playing. They don't play in the cul-de-sacs unless they're being punished.

        It's funny. Lots of us are trying to be less autocratic with our kids. We don't say, “Because I said so” much anymore. Some of us try not to use Dad's old standby, “As long as you're living under my roof, you'll play by my rules.”

        At the same time, our kids have less freedom than ever. They have designated play places and specified times to use their imaginations.

        We love them so much, we smother them. We forget what it was like to be them. Were you ever a kid, I asked Ray Hodges. Did you play in the street? Did you need laws telling you to move yourself and your stuff when a car came? Anybody ban you from being a kid? Ever?

        Mr. Hodges said he grew up in Chicago, where the street was the playground and, in fact, to walk to the playground was an intimidating experience.

        He understands. He'd rather neighbors work it out among themselves.

        But he's just a public servant, doing what Forest Park wants. What Forest Park wants is sterile streets, full of no kids. They should move to my neighborhood. It's full of kids. I wish I'd see a few every now and then. Playing in the street.

        E-mail pdaugherty@enquirer.com.

       

       



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