Nelson's Field

I was talking with my brother recently about this place and how it had a name but not really.  This was an unofficial designation that everyone understood.  The Nelson family owned a large property which included a nice flat area that became our football field and a place to fly a kite.

They also had grapes growing and if you wanted to risk being seen, you could grab a few grapes.  I don't remember anyone ever coming out to complain and I also don't remember us ever asking permission (or even seeing anyone).

Riding bikes

I got my first bike at age 10.  It was a Sears Spyder (Sting Ray knockoff).  Purple-themed including a sparkling purple seat.

I remember initially asking to ride it across the street.  The city had done the dirt work on the east side of 63rd St in an effort to widen the street (which took decades by the way) and that side was the only

side with a sidewalk.  So I would ride back and forth and that seemed like a big deal.

Eventually I rode that bike on 64th and then all over Windsor Heights.  We laid skidmarks and rode wheelies.  We would have contests on riding the longest wheelie.  We rode down on some dirt trails made by motorcycles just off 69th St.

Dean had a more traditional bike and I took his regular seat and put it on my bike for more of a motorcycle look.

In 1974, I got a Schwinn Continental (which I still have).  I don't remember how long I kept my other bike.

This took me more places.  I would ride around Cummins Parkway and up into the Waterbury area.  I rode that bike all the way to Holiday Pool in West Des Moines.  I also rode wheelies on this bike and I remember using it in our contests.  They were built like a tank.

Playing outside

This was a time when you were either told to "go outside" or you simply said "I'm going outside".  And from there, that included leaving the yard.  If I said I would be down playing football at Nelson's Field (an open field on someone's private property that just happened to include grapevines), then Mom or Dad (likely Mom) would ring the bell on the back porch that it was time to come home.  But so often, I would just take off.  I might be riding my bike on 64th St or I could riding down around Windsor Park and the trails or I could be down to Harder Pharmacy.  It was a freedom that can't be imagined today.  One for having permission to be gone like that and two for not having a cell phone to either get a call or text or to make one.