I follow a Facebook group dedicated to the memories and history of my home town, Elgin IL. One of the highlights of my childhood in Elgin was when my Mom would take me, my brother and sister to the greatest playground in the world. It was the Wing Park Rocket Slide. I have some incredible memories of that place.
Now that I look back at it all…oh my Lord! That thing wouldn’t have even been allowed out of the factory these days! It was metal, it had corners, the slide was steep, the cage bars were only vertical, a kid could squeeze through and fall!
There was no padding on that thing anywhere. There was a hornet nest inside the tip of the rocket. And finally the whole thing was built on a concrete slab where a kid could bash his skull in.
It was so freaking fun!
It has long since been torn down.
Anyway, someone posted a picture of the Rocket Slide or at the very least, an identical model. I paused and stared at that picture. Suddenly I’m a couple apples short of four feet tall and I’m wearing a striped terry cloth tank top and very short athletic shorts with socks pulled up to my scabby knees, three stripes around the top of the socks, thank you.
I was climbing that thing again, it was so tall. That dirty metallic scent hit me again. It was a stainless steel spiral slide, partially contained in a fiberglass tube. It was a very fast slide. I can remember running everywhere. I was making temporary friends as we all climbed that thing. The bold kids would be shaking it the whole way up. Every now and then I’d have to run to the blanket to check in with Mom and her beautifully feathered hair. One of those check-ins was a forced sit down on the blanket to scarf down the Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich that she made for me. The second we were done, my brother and I took off to go hit the slides again, my toddler sister would make an attempt to chase us down, no luck for her. She was stuck at the blanket with Mom. I remember dirty hands, dirty faces and that ripe sweet funky scent of a kid who played as hard as he could, as hard as he should.
Good times, good times.
Back to adult life: This past Saturday I decided our basement needed to be cleared out, at the very least, it needed to be navigable again. It was a sweaty project, but I finished in good time. I emerged from the basement to see Annie struggling to sanitize jars for another batch of jam while keeping Lyd from exploding with pent-up energy and boredom. I considered the building chaos, nodded to myself and I turned around to go back into the basement.
Two minutes later I emerged with her bicycle, this caused her to shriek with excitement. She on her bike with me on foot, made our way to the local playground in the place I now call Home, Lodi, WI.
This playground, though rocket themed, is nothing like my beloved Rocket Slide. It’s much closer to the ground, the slides aren’t as high. For the most part it’s all made of plastic, the metal parts have a rubber coating on them and the whole thing is built on a bed of soft wood chips. It’s all very safe, as a parent, I certainly didn’t mind, it still wasn’t the same though.
It didn’t matter, the affect was the same. She ran, she jumped, she climbed, she went down slides, she climbed up slides, she flew her rocket to Jupiter. “That’s a gas planet Daddy.”
The seasons were changing, winter was losing to spring, by the standards we’ve been living with for the past few months, it might as well had been a scorcher that day. She was officially unbound, and she ran hard, she ran frantically, rushing from one slide to another, trying out every different way to get up to the slide. She ran winter out of her system.
It may not be the Rocket Slide, but it’s still a playground, thirty-five years ago, six-year-old me felt the same magic that my own six-year old was feeling. For anyone who knows the book, I send out a thank you to a Mr. Septimus Bean every time I see a playground.
Back to the day that the image of the rocket slide appeared on my newsfeed. “What’s that Daddy?” She asked. I never even realized she climbed up on the couch and was peeking over my shoulder.
“That, Sweetie, is the Rocket Slide. It was a playground Grandma took me to when I was little. See that top part? That was over one hundred feet tall. Birds flew below us. The air was so thin up there, you needed an oxygen mask to make it to the top. They had them hanging off of hooks halfway up. Only the brave kids made it to the top.”
“Really?”
“To the best of my recollection.”
“Did you make it to the top?”
“I did, it wasn’t easy, but I made it.”
“Can we go there?”
“Well that’s the problem Hun, it’s not around anymore. Some jerk of a kid found the start switch, and fired up the Rocket, it blasted off and crashed somewhere in the ocean. Since the Rocket was gone, it was no longer the Rocket Slide, so they tore the rest of it down. True Story!”
Her eyes were wide with wonder, she stared at me slack-jawed. I stared back, struggling to maintain my poker face.
Her eyes narrowed. “Daddy!” she cried before giving me a playful punch on the arm.