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<p>A grizzled warrior, I knew my prey would sneak around the corner of the house, thinking to catch me unaware.</p><p>I raised up over the railing just slightly, steadying my weapon.</p><p>There he was.</p><p>&#8220;Squirt,&#8221; and &#8220;squirt&#8221; again.</p><p>&#8220;Yow,&#8221; he&#8217;d yell.</p><p>Boy, you couldn&#8217;t beat a good water gun fight back in the 1940s and 1950s.</p><p>Do grade-school kids still get out the plastic water pistols as weather warms up? Do they still design elaborate games to see who&#8217;s the best tracker and ambusher?</p><p>Probably not.</p><p>Here are a few other things I&#8217;m pretty sure kids today won&#8217;t be spending their summers doing.</p><p><strong>Cheering for the latest chapter of a serial:</strong> Saturday afternoon was movie time at the neighborhood theater. You&#8217;d get a cartoon or two plus maybe the Bowery Boys and finally a galloping, fist-fighting cowboy flick. But the serial &#8211; ahhhhh! In the last chapter, the hero had just gotten tossed over a cliff. Now you&#8217;d see how he got out of it.</p><p><strong>Watching teenagers at the drugstore soda fountain:</strong> Casually glancing over from the latest issue of &#8220;Captain Marvel&#8221; at the comic book rack, you or your buddy would whistle or make some semi-salacious remark to the guys moving in on the girls slurping ice cream sodas. Of course, the teens would flare up and yell &#8220;shut up, you little creep,&#8221; making your day.</p><p><strong>Wearing a gas mask:</strong> Thanks to the big guys who&#8217;d come home from World War II and Korea with surplus equipment, we had canteens, ammo belts, blankets, shirts &#8211; wow, just name it. The big prize seemed to be a shoulder bag containing a never-used gas mask. They were hot as blazes to wear, but did they ever make you feel like you were saving the world from the Nazis or the commies.</p><p><strong>Running home when you realized you&#8217;d forgotten about the curfew: </strong>The wailing siren that many towns had in those days at 9 p.m. meant that all minors had to be off the streets. Visions of getting sent to reform school swirled in your head as you pounded down the pavement, searching for the &#8220;prowl car&#8221; that your parents assured you was out there.</p><p><strong>Collecting Popsicle wrappers:</strong> Eat enough of those things (cherry was my favorite) and you could mail in the wrappers, often a bit sticky, for prizes. I have no recollection of what I got for my wrappers, but I remember scouring gutters, looking for more.</p><p><strong>Riding a streetcar to the amusement park:</strong> We had great parks &#8211; Hanson&#8217;s at Harveys Lake, Sans Souci in Hanover Township and Rocky Glen up the line. Sans Souci was the nearest. But honestly, I liked the clanging, banging old trolley car almost as much as the Caterpillar and Bearcat.</p><p><strong>Befouling the air with cap guns: </strong>I&#8217;ll tell you, there was nothing like a good game of cowboys or G-men when the cap guns started blazing away, filling the neighborhood with smoke and noise. I don&#8217;t remember how we decided on the story lines or who was who, but I do recall the damnable humiliation of a roll of caps jamming amid the cries of &#8220;over there&#8221; and &#8220;get him.&#8221;</p><p><strong>Pestering mom and dad to get a TV: </strong>Yes, they were exotic and costly commodities. Believe me, it was no fun if you were the only kid on the block who had to subsist on second-hand accounts of &#8220;Space Patrol.&#8221;</p><p>As for kids today &#8230;</p><p>Wait a second, what did I get for those Popsicle wrappers anyway?</p><style>
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<div class="neCaption">Tom Mooney Remember When </div></div><div class="metaInfo"><photo0>https://www.timesleader.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/05/web1_TOM_MOONEY.jpg</photo0><caption0>Tom Mooney Remember When </caption0><photoCredit0></photoCredit0></div></div>
<div class="metaInfo"><bylineMeta><p>Tom Mooney</p><p>Remember When</p></bylineMeta></div><div class="metaInfo"><shirttailMeta><p>Tom Mooney is a Times Leader history columnist. Reach him at tommooney42@gmail.com.</p></shirttailMeta></div>

Remember When: Cap guns, water pistols and other fun in the 1940s and 1950s