A few nights ago, I saw some teens playing basketball under the lights just down the street from me. I don’t think they had done that all summer but then I remembered how my brothers and I along with our friends would jam as much activity as possible into those last summer days before we returned to school.

I still remember those endless summer days of late June, July, and early August back in the 1950s. There was no homework, no early bedtime, with each day an adventure with a greater sense of freedom than we would ever know again.

But by mid-August we began to notice that the evenings were getting shorter, and that when the sun went down it became cooler than it had just a few weeks before. In the business district of our town the local 5 and 10 was featuring those dreaded back to school supplies. Yes, there were such stores that carried a huge selection of goods at prices that make today’s dollar stores look expensive by comparison.

On Canal Street the men’s and ladies clothing stores were featuring back to school clothes for boys and girls. Back then mothers wanted their children’s attire for school to be a credit to them and while kids today dress well enough, I have never gotten over seeing students, particularly boys, coming down the street from school here in Silver Creek with temperatures in the teens or lower wearing just a hoodie. Back in those days it was a given that when the weather was cold and snowy you dressed for it, which probably explains why I have never had any inclination to explore Antarctica or live in northern Canada for that matter.

So now with all those signals telling us that the days of summer were ending we went into high gear to get the most out of the few days remaining. One year we took over a neighbor’s hay field that had gone through two cuttings of hay that summer and mowed and laid out a wiffle ball diamond/baseball diamond. It was a perfect location because there were no nearby windows we could break, and it was several hundred feet from the nearest street.

The diamond was really good for wiffle ball which we played with abandon. I remember that after the first wiffle ball and bat sets came out we were told by our small fry baseball managers and some of our fathers that wiffle ball would mess up our swing with a baseball bat and destroy our throwing arms. Subsequently that was proven not to be true although we already had figured that out

One year we had a war game that lasted most of a week. This would probably be frowned on today but remember that in those days my father and almost all of my friends and neighbors fathers were all part of what came to be called the “greatest generation” having been in the service during World II, so I guess it was natural.

To make as it seem as realistic as possible, we all dug out our soldier gear which in my case consisted of an old helmet liner and my father’s old U.S. Marine web belt and holster to which I had added a near replica 45 caliber pistol that fired caps. Others wore a variety of helmets, and hats and carried a assortment of six shooters, cap firing rifles and air rifles which with

a small apple jammed in the muzzle made a good substitute for a grenade launcher. In retrospect we looked more like the soldiers in the Marx Brothers movie “Duck Soup” than real soldiers, but we were just kids.

In those last days of summer, we rode our bikes like there was no tomorrow. One year we had long distance bike races around the block. Since we lived in a neighborhood with little traffic that wasn’t too dangerous, we figured although I think our parents were not so sure.

The races were more like relay races if I remember correctly with teams changing riders and bikes every few laps although you have to understand that this was between 65 and 70 years ago and memories become less clear over the years. Anyway, we knew or thought we knew a lot about racing because we had been to the local racetrack in Fonda, N.Y., which at the time was sanctioned by NASCAR, so we had a starter and pits on the sidewalk with pit crews. There were a few spills, but no one got hurt badly but then we were young and recovered quickly.

Those last days went by quickly and then it was Labor Day, the day when our family went to the county fair and in my opinion wasted that last precious day. Riding the rides and the food were fine but then we had to endure walking through the livestock barns and 4-H displays so my lawyer father could touch base with his many farmer clients and their families.

Then it was home to a shower and an early bedtime so that we would be bright and shiny and ready for school the next day. When we awoke that next morning, it was no more dressing in shorts and t-shirts with grubby sneakers. Summer was over and it was back to school.

Thomas Kirkpatrick Sr. is a Silver Creek resident. Send comments to editorial@observertoday.com