After setting up the north half of our property for a trailer rental business and getting grass to grow on the south half, my dad got busy with metal pipes and his welding machine. 

Before long a structure set in concrete towered over our playground. Two swings hung on long chains between two posts. Steel rings on chains hung on the south side of one post and a monkey bar suspended between two other chains tempted kids on the north side of the other post.

Across 29th Street to the west of the swings was a grocery store. Typical of neighborhood grocery stores this family-owned shop was small, in this case a one story stucco building. Also typical, a Coca-Cola signs with the store’s name was displayed over the door. Pumping our tall swings until we could see the flat roof of the store became a popular challenge as every kid in the neighborhood grew stronger.

As we grew stronger and pulled the swings ever higher we became addicted to a new sensation. At the moment of reaching the greatest height and before starting on the swing back, the chains would go slack. A brief snatch of weightlessness hesitated. Then our butts came slamming back onto the wooden seat of the swing as the chains snapped every link together, pulling us into a curve and away from smacking straight into the earth. It was thrilling. 

To this day, when I see astronauts floating in space, I remember that weightlessness. I’ll bet those astronauts have even better view of that flat roof …

Was the salvation of the chains as thrilling as when we jumped off of the seat at ever higher upswings to land on our feet farther and farther out onto the grass? Was it as thrilling as when we laid our bellies on the flat seats and twisted the chains up tight only to pick up our feet and let the chains straighten out by spinning us? The chains separated and dropped us with a thump when they straightened out only to have the momentum that twisted the chains together for shorter and shorter twists before staying at rest. 

Was it as thrilling as swinging so high that we’d go over the top of the towering swings and around to the other side? 

Well. That never  happened. 

Try as we might we never got quite up to horizontal with the top of the swing set. But my mind spent plenty of time contemplating the possibilities: Not going fast enough to keep the seat extended. A moment of weightlessness before falling onto the top of the swing set before plunging to the ground. Or succeeding on going so fast I’d keep wrapping the chains around the top, ever closer to squeezing myself into the pipe the swings hung from. Gruesome and gruesomer, my fantasies drew me in.

Call me a chicken but I never got close to swinging over the top of the swing set. But then, neither did anyone else.

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