Although the Averets and the Urbans had it for backyards, the woods technically didn’t start until you got to the area with no houses. That was behind the Vicar’s house and the Miller’s garage. It officially ended at the Schmidt’s house. The woods were trees and brush, animals and mystery that extended from the alley down the hill to Glenwood street. It was a steep hill, with a long way down to the street. It was a perfect hill for sliding down, despite the danger. Alex had lost his front top permanent teeth crashing into a tree. (This was the stuff of legends, as far as we were concerned; it happened before we moved there). We moved into the alley in August of 1975. Then, in summer, we played games, rode bikes, walked through the woods. In the fall, we started sledding. We didn’t need snow; we just sled down the hills in boxes.

Zeke and I had plenty of those; we had just moved. Our favorite was a big clothing/tv/refrigerator? box that we would get in in the living room and knock over. It was a rocket ship, and we could bump around in that box for hours. Then someone suggested we slide down the woods in it. I don’t remember who said it, but we were game. You didn’t need to climb in the box to slide down the hill in it. You could tear it up, and sit on it.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!” It was a long way down to the street in that box. Alex, Zeke, Char, Grace and I slid down the hill on the big, flat box. Since you can’t steer a box like you can a sled, there were a lot of wipeouts. Plenty of near misses with trees and cars (on Glenwood), too. The cool thing about box sledding was that you could jump off the box and abruptly stop before you got to the street. We’d slide down the hill, jump off the box, grab what was left of the box, and run back up the hill for another ride. Holding that box could flatten your knuckles, but we didn’t care. We’d be up and down the hill until twilight, or the whistle, whichever came first. We didn’t do this for too long. I remember the day after that first day of sledding on the box. It was dry that first day, but it rained overnight. We wanted to get back out there and enjoy the hill, but it was cooler out, so Zeke and I wore our new mittens. It was muddy, and that was pretty brutal to the box. It didn’t survive as many trips down the hill, but the slippery mud made the trips we did take faster. It was a lot of fun. Then we went home and Mommy saw our new mittens all covered with mud. She beat us for that one. After Mommy got done with us, I was scared to go down the hill in a box again. Soon enough it was winter, and we could sled down the hill.

Sledding down the woods hill was even trickier than using the box. Although you could steer most sleds, the snow and ice made the hill more slippery, so you would be flying down the hill. Glenwood, at the bottom of the hill was also slippery, so it was much harder to stop if you hit the street. Then you’d get the lecture. “Angela Jones, I saw you deliberately slide out into Glenwood. You could have been hit by a car and killed! Well, not on my property, you don’t,” Mrs. Urban would scold. We got very skilled at turning at the base of the hill, jumping off the sled, and other maneuvers to avoid that scolding. We’d also sled further down in the woods, off Mrs. Urban’s property, in the “deep woods.” Nobody ever got hurt, either. We’d sled until we got cold, then we’d go to the Millers’ for hot cocoa. Mrs. Miller made the best cocoa. We would just have to say the word, cocoa, and she’d pull out a can. Our mouths watered watching her spray whipped cream on the top of each cup of hot chocolate. We’d put our snowpants and coats on the radiator to dry, then we’d drink the cocoa and stay inside until our clothes dried. We’d usually go hit the hills again before going home on a winter day.

One summer we had a running game of capture the flag. We’d ride bikes, play on swing sets, play with dolls or cars, kickball, all the usual stuff, plus there was this backdrop of capture the flag. It was the boys against the girls, and it was like a war of suspicion going on the whole time. The flag was hidden in the woods, while most of the time we’d stay in the alley to keep out of enemy view.

“I know where the boys hid the flag,” Andrea came and told us one day. “I told them I was on their side, and they told me where the flag is,” she whispered conspiratorily. I was only nominally interested in this game, but I was interested in keeping up the war between the boys and the girls. I thought it was heresy for any girl to associate with the boys, even in the name of being a spy or a double agent. “I’m going to spy on them to find out more,” Andrea sneaked off. “I think she just wants to play with the boys,” I told Char. “How can we trust that she’s not giving them our secrets?” Char and I were playing a game of four square. We could hardly have even been considered in the game of capture the flag, let alone be planning any strikes or defenses. “I know, Char said, “she just likes the boys too much.” I made it a point to stay out of the woods as much as possible during capture the flag. I didn’t want to be ambushed by an army of overzealous boys. I even eyed my brother Zeke with suspicion.

All this cloak and dagger stuff weighed down the atmosphere of the alley though, so one day, when Andrea asked me to go in the woods with her, I agreed. It was early afternoon, and most of the other children were inside eating lunch. Andrea never went inside, and I stayed outside almost as much as she did. Not surprisingly, the woods were empty at this point. She showed me the boys’ hideout. It didn’t look so ominous. It was just a crawl space under a canopy of young maple trees. Absent of its residents, it even got me interested in this game for the first time. Then we walked a little further, past the Urban’s house, and right before we got to the Vicar’s house, and Andrea showed me a plastic gallon milk jug with the top cut off. “This is the woods bathroom,” she told me. “Don’t you want to use it?” Andrea was known for using the bathroom outdoors. “It’s so much fun! See? I’m going to use it right now. . . “ I ran out of the woods as fast as I could! Andrea was fun, but pulling down my pants and going to the bathroom outside was not my idea of fun. Neither was watching someone else do it! A few days later, I saw some dog poop in Charlotte’s yard. Char had a friendly, lovable, very housebroken collie named Amanda. “Shame on Mandy,” I said, when I saw the poop on the ground. “That’s not Mandy’s,” Char informed me, “That’s Andrea’s!” I never did understand why Andrea did that stuff, but maybe the fact that she was 3 or 4 had something to do with it.

Char, Jenny and I were in Char’s driveway playing jump rope when Zeke, Sam, and Ken came running up waving a flag. “We captured your flag! We captured your flag,” they yelled. Apparently we’d trusted the little girls, Nell and Andrea with the entire girls’ strategy in the game. I had never even seen the flag.

The Hammerskjolds sold their house across the alley from us and built a new one behind the Miller’s garage. Mr. Hammerskjold was an architect. The house they built was contemporary, built into the side of the hill, with skylights and unique windows. They even put a wooden staircase all the way down to Glenwood. It was cool, but it was also built in the deep woods. The new house chopped off the deep woods, leaving only back yards. This effectively ended our woods play.