The armchair psychologist that is my adult self can not help but make note here, how the social dynamics of our little midwestern, middle-class, cul-de-sac world must have fit so nicely into several stereo-typical family scenarios. And how these must have been a factor in the experience my child self would have, of went on there.
How the older, somewhat more well off Wells family of unknown religion (their ethnicity possibly French-American), kept aloof and to themselves, and avoided the war completely (as far as I could tell) while the younger, equally somewhat well off Jones family of devout Catholics (unknown ethnicity), got destroyed right away.
How the equally young, but much less well off von Ahsen family of German-American Lutherans (us) stayed somewhat neutral, while the also quite young, and less well off Manahan family of Irish Catholics, fought tooth and nail, but eventually also lost.
The Smith’s (unknown ethnicity and religion), were the enemy… until they won. Then they were our leaders, and we all were the losers.
It was a simple matter of overwhelming force and opportunity. There were five Smith kids of fighting age and they had almost no adult supervision. The rest of us had two kids each and parents who cared. We didn’t stand a chance, so we simply gave up.
The dirt clod war was over before it really got going. It started with the Smith kids throwing dirt clods at the Jones’s house when their parents were out but the kids were home. The Jones kids were too scared to come out of the house so the Manahan kids came out to make a stand. It was noble, but useless. The Smith kids simply focused their barrage of dirt clods on the Manahan kids and drove them back into their house. They then pelted both houses, making their point… and then some.
The Manahan kids were not ones to give up easily. They took beating after beating but kept fighting to the end. They also made occasional forays into enemy territory, sabotaging their supplies and attacking when their oldest and strongest were not at home. But eventually even they had to give up. Like the rest of the parents (other than the Smith’s) the Manahan adults would never have tolerated their kids engaging in actual fist fighting (the only thing that could have worked) so they really couldn’t do much more then throw dirt clods.
My adult self also can not help but imagine how the adults of these diverse families might have interacted with each other. Especially when it came to the Smith family. Us kids basically made a pact to give up fighting back, in order to minimize the damage. I imagine a similar agreement (or perhaps it was unspoken) may have formed between our parents as well.
The Smith family was a problem for everyone. Their father was a traveling salesman. He made a good living, but was gone almost all the time. The five boys… (five boys!!) ran wild and their mother had absolutely no control. The Smith’s were next door to us and they constantly ran around the neighborhood (often just around their house) chasing each other and beating each other up. The older ones tended to focus on the youngest (Terry) who was my age. They would run him down and either tickle him until he puked (why this was funny was beyond me) or give him a major “snuggie”. Snuggies actually are kind of funny unless you’re the one getting it.
As we got older and accepted our fate… (to play however the Smith boys wanted to play or go elsewhere) things settled down between the families of our cul-de-sac. The ones who would have none it… didn’t, and were not to be seen unless something really dramatic happened. But for any kid who was interested, there was plenty happening. And once we had a proper fort and the means to supply it, our Smith leaders started planning the real war.
It would be the war that ended all our wars. Against our new enemies in the neighboring cul-de-sac. On 17th avenue. They had a fort too, and John Smith had a plan to take it down.
To be continued…
