In the 1970s we lived in Bancroft. My oldest boy was in high school. It was common for him to go hunting for a few hours after school.
He'd come home after school change his clothes and head out with his .22. At the end of our street (Johnston Cresc) is the public school. Beyond the public school was the woods. Carrying his rifle he'd walk down Johnston Cresc, through the school yard - often with kids playing in the yard - and on into the woods. A few hours later he'd make the return trip usually carrying a rabbit or two or maybe a grouse.
No one thought that was odd or unusual and definitely no one ever called the police to dispatch the swat team.
Can you imagine that occurring today?
There's probably hundreds of such or somewhat similar stories to remember in the good old days.
He'd come home after school change his clothes and head out with his .22. At the end of our street (Johnston Cresc) is the public school. Beyond the public school was the woods. Carrying his rifle he'd walk down Johnston Cresc, through the school yard - often with kids playing in the yard - and on into the woods. A few hours later he'd make the return trip usually carrying a rabbit or two or maybe a grouse.
No one thought that was odd or unusual and definitely no one ever called the police to dispatch the swat team.
Can you imagine that occurring today?
There's probably hundreds of such or somewhat similar stories to remember in the good old days.