Late summer was apple time in our neighborhood. Every house seemed to have an apple tree. And no one minded if you picked them for some reason, probably because they were not ideal eating apples. For a few years, all the neighbor kids would have Apple Wars. It was all-out insanity, and quite organized, with rules of combat which escape me now...but I recall there were. Dozens of us, maybe even 50 of us would maraud the streets in one of two groups, collecting apples in bags, bushels, pails, our pockets - tuck in your shirt and you could put a bunch down the neck. These were small green apples...and hard. When the collecting was done we would form front-lines and the onslaught began, with great whoops and hollering.
Suddenly the air was a battle scene from Braveheart.....except instead of arrows or spears...it was these damn apples! For hours we would go through these cycles of collect/gather together on the front/bombard each other with hundreds of apples then repeat. Occasionally one of use would get a good bruising or whack on the noggin but never a serious injury. And no one went after cars, somehow we knew to respect houses/windows. Adults were around but they just watched to make sure we stayed within our limits. We knew not to get carried away because we knew we could never get away with anything...some parent was always within eye/earshot and if one parent pegged us with an infraction, then our own parents would too. (thats the old code of parenting). The Apple Wars of.....about 1972. We would arrive home at dinner time, out of breath, sweaty, exhausted, green fingers but after dinner we were out there for more!
