From metal slides that could fry an egg to lawn darts that doubled as medieval weapons, we survived a childhood that would send today's safety inspectors into cardiac arrest—and we wouldn't trade those scars for anything.
Growing up in the 70s, I remember racing my bike down our suburban street without a helmet, my hair flying wild in the wind. My mom would wave from the porch as I disappeared around the corner, not expecting to see me again until the streetlights came on. That was just Tuesday.
Looking back now, as someone who carefully selects organic produce and checks ingredient labels, I can't help but laugh at how different childhood was back then. We survived things that would make today's parents faint. We didn't just play differently; we lived in an entirely different universe of acceptable risk.
If you grew up in the 70s like I did, you probably have your own collection of "how did we survive that?" stories. These weren't considered dangerous activities or parenting fails. They were just called childhood. And somehow, most of us made it through just fine, with nothing more than a few scars and some great stories to tell.
1. Riding in the back of pickup trucks was better than any amusement park
Remember piling into the bed of your neighbor's pickup truck with five other kids for a trip to the lake? We'd stand up, holding onto the sides, feeling like we were flying as the truck picked up speed on the highway. The wind would whip our faces, and we'd scream with joy every time we hit a bump that sent us bouncing.
My dad's friend had a truck, and summer meant at least one ride where eight of us kids would crowd into the back, sitting on wheel wells or lying flat to watch the clouds roll by overhead. No seat belts, no protective barriers, just pure, unfiltered freedom. The only rule was "hang on tight."
Today, that same activity would probably result in a visit from child services. But back then? Parents would cheerfully wave us off, reminding us to be home by dinner.
2. Playground equipment was designed by someone who clearly hated children
The playgrounds of the 70s were like gladiator training grounds. Remember those metal slides that would heat up to approximately the temperature of the sun? We'd still go down them in shorts, leaving with third-degree burns on the backs of our thighs. The solution? Wax paper from someone's lunch to make it faster, not safer.
And those merry-go-rounds that spun at NASCAR speeds? We'd pile on as many kids as possible while the strongest kid spun us until someone inevitably flew off into the gravel. Speaking of gravel, that was our safety surface. Not rubber mulch or that bouncy material they use now. Just good old-fashioned rocks to break your fall.
The monkey bars were set at adult height over concrete. The swings were made of solid wood or metal. Everything was rusty. And we loved every minute of it.
3. Car safety meant mom's arm across your chest
Seat belts? Optional. Car seats? What were those? I spent most car rides either lying across the back seat reading a book or sitting in the middle of the front bench seat between my parents. When my mom had to brake suddenly, her right arm would shoot out across my chest. That was the original airbag system.
On long trips, we'd create entire living rooms in the back of the station wagon. Blankets, pillows, board games spread out as we rolled down the interstate at 70 miles per hour. Sometimes I'd climb over the seats while the car was moving, just because I could.
The concept of everyone being buckled before the car moved would have seemed absolutely ridiculous. How were you supposed to fight with your friends or change the radio station from the back seat if you were strapped in?
4. Lawn darts were a legitimate backyard game
Ah yes, lawn darts. Essentially metal spears that we'd hurl through the air toward a plastic ring, often with other kids running around nearby. The box might as well have been labeled "Medieval Weapons for Children."
Every summer barbecue featured a lawn dart tournament. We'd play well into dusk when you could barely see where you were throwing these metal projectiles. The only safety instruction was "watch out!" yelled a split second before impact.
I remember the satisfying thunk when a dart would stick perfectly in the ground. Also remember my friend getting one stuck in his shoe. Thankfully, his foot wasn't in it at the time. We just laughed it off and kept playing.
5. Sunscreen was for tourists and that one pale kid
My summer routine consisted of getting burned to a crisp in June, peeling for two weeks, then spending the rest of the summer with a tan that would make me look like a completely different person by September. Sunscreen existed, but it was SPF 4 and smelled like coconut oil. Most of us just used baby oil to "get a better tan."
Parents would send us outside with the instruction to "get some color." Sunburns were treated with aloe from the plant in the kitchen window. Having a lobster-red back that hurt to touch was just part of summer, like mosquito bites and grass stains.
6. Drinking from the garden hose was the only hydration system
Water bottles? Energy drinks? Sports drinks? We had one hydration option when playing outside: the garden hose. It didn't matter that the water came out warm at first, tasting like rubber and probably containing who knows what from sitting in that hose all day.
We'd take turns drinking, wiping our mouths with dirty hands, then passing it to the next kid. The metal end would be burning hot from the sun, but we'd still put our mouths right on it. Sometimes we'd spray each other first, then drink from the same hose. Sharing germs was just building immunity, right?
7. Fireworks were a year-round hobby
In my neighborhood, fireworks weren't just for the Fourth of July. Someone always knew someone who had firecrackers, bottle rockets, or Roman candles. We'd light them in the street, in the woods, sometimes holding them in our hands like sparklers on steroids.
I vividly remember my friend discovering that you could launch bottle rockets from a glass Coke bottle. We spent an entire afternoon turning his backyard into a war zone, aiming them at trash cans and trees. When one went sideways and shot through his garage window, we just closed the door and pretended nothing happened.
8. Walking to school meant actually walking, alone, for miles
From first grade on, I walked to school. Not with a parent, not in a walking school bus, just me and whatever kids I met along the way. It was over a mile, across busy streets, through a patch of woods that we called "the shortcut."
We had no cell phones, no GPS trackers, no way for parents to know where we were between leaving the house and arriving at school. If it rained, we got wet. If it snowed, we threw snowballs. If a strange dog followed us, we'd try to pet it.
The idea that children couldn't navigate their own neighborhood or be trusted to get themselves to school would have seemed absurd. We were expected to figure it out, and we did.
Final thoughts
Looking at this list now, part of me wonders how any of us survived to adulthood. But another part, the bigger part, feels grateful for the freedom we had to explore, make mistakes, and learn our own limits.
Were things too dangerous back then? Maybe. Are things too safe now? Perhaps. The truth probably lies somewhere in the middle. But those of us who grew up in the 70s share something special: memories of a childhood where adventure wasn't scheduled, supervised, or sanitized.
We learned resilience not from books or workshops, but from picking ourselves up off the concrete, brushing off the gravel, and getting back on that scorching metal slide. We learned problem-solving by figuring out how to get home when we got lost, not by following a GPS. We learned our limits by occasionally exceeding them, not by having them predetermined by safety guidelines.
Would I let kids do these things today? Honestly, probably not all of them. But I'm thankful I got to experience childhood when a scraped knee was a badge of honor and "be careful" was more of a suggestion than a rule.
