I grew up in a suburb near Detroit that sprang up after WW II. In my particular neighborhood, all of the houses were called bungalows. The tiny downstairs consisted of a living room, dining room, kitchen and 2 bedrooms. The upstairs was an unfinished attic room that every homeowner eventually made into an additional bedroom. The houses were made of brick and they were separated by the space of a driveway. We lived pretty close to each other. In the summertime, with the windows open, you could clearly hear conversations in neighboring houses.
It was a great place to grow up. There were lots of young families, many of the fathers were WWII vets, including my father, and there were lots of kids. There were often elaborate games of hide-and-seek in the early evening with kids from all over the neighborhood participating. We had to create our own adventures – no computer games or cell phones in those days. We rode our bikes (sans helmets – we would have laughed at the idea of a helmet) to get around. We played with our dolls, swam at the neighborhood pool, played baseball, made things, read books, played four-square in the street, walked up to the neighborhood drug store and ‘beer’ store for penny candy.
There was almost always someone around to play with. In my midwestern suburban neighborhood, we did something we called ‘calling out.’ For example, if I wanted to play with Patty Moore, who lived down the street, I would go to her house, station myself outside her front or side door – this could either be right outside the front door or further out from the house on the lawn or sidewalk – and yell, “Patty.” But this particular yell was not a crisp, short “Patty.” No, it was a sing-songy drawn out “Paa – aa – tee – ee” that changed pitch with each syllable. ‘Pa’ was the top note, ‘aa’ was a couple of notes down in pitch, ‘tee’ was back to the original note and ‘ee’ was back to the second note. It was definitely a minor, not a major, sound.
We all did it. If someone ‘called me out’ my mom, upon hearing the call, would tell me, “Claudia, so-and-so is calling you out.” And I would go to the door. Or, if I wasn’t available, my mom would go to the door and say “I’m sorry, so-and-so, Claudia isn’t home right now” or “Claudia is doing her homework and can’t come out.”
I suppose we knocked on a door now and then. But in my neighborhood the accepted thing to do was that wonderful, almost chant-like, ‘calling out.’
‘Calling out’ has a different meaning these days. It can mean calling someone’s name on the street to get their attention or challenging someone.
Now, here’s my question: Did you do something like this when you were a kid? Was this done in some version in every city and town? Or was it peculiar to my corner of Michigan?
Please share!
Sandy says
Claudia! My husband and I were just talking about how we used to call out our friends! I grew up on the west side of Detroit right near the border of Dearborn. We used to go to the Rouge Park pools and we played outside until it was dark! We sure got a lot of exercise!
Thanks for taking me down memory lane.
Sandy says
OMG!! I can’t believe I was the first one to comment. This has never happened before.
Our Country Bungalow says
We did that too! Maybe it was a Michigan thing. :-)
~cathy
craftyles says
My neighborhood in a small suburb of CHicago sounds alot like yours. We did the same outside games and had a 5&10 cent store to buy penny candy. Such great memories. We didn’t have the calling out though-that’s the first I’ve heard of it.
Jill says
I remember playing with my neighborhood friends. We played a lot of hide-and-seek and rode our big wheels and skate boards around. I love that you “called out” in your neighborhood. We knocked on doors in our ‘hood in Central California. My friend’s mom would call him and each of his three brothers home that way though… it was before cell phones, afterall.
Did you live near Allen Park? I knew a guy in college from there and visited several times. I remember the brick bungalows– cute!
Hugs,
Jill
puttermuch says
I grew up in California. I’ve never heard of “calling out” but it sounds like it must have been fun. We lived in a neighborhood with quite a few kids as well. We were always playing outdoors, we’d eat breakfast, make our beds and we were out of the house until dinner time. We played badminton in the street, played lots of basketball in our driveways, roller skated and made weekly trips (thursdays) to the bookmobile. During the summer months, the temps would be +100 degrees, the cool, air conditioned bookmobile was our haven. My girlfriend, Susan, and I would load up with books about horses and Nancy Drew mysteries, ride our bikes back home and lie in the yard, reading for hours at a time. Such fun times….thank you for stirring up some wonderful memories :)
Cheryl says
We called each other out in our neighborhood as well. I grew up in upstate New York where most of the families there came from the burrows of New York City. What a nice memory to think back on.
Brynwood Needleworks says
Where I grew up in Wisconsin, we had over thirty kids our age living within doors of each other. (All it took was a few good Catholic families!)
We used to play pom pom pullaway, red light/green light, and kick the can after dark. We had a ball! Some of my favorite childhood memories center around that house and all our friends.
Perhaps it’s not just a Michigan thing (except for that “calling out” part, which I’ve never heard of before) but it’s a Midwest thing (like “bubblers” and “soda”).
Thanks for your story today. It made me smile.
xoxo
Donna
Kris says
Claudia…how charming was this post!!!! I don’t recall doing the “calling out” so much as I do the small neighborhood we lived in being filled with kids our age. We made our own fun, and it was not uncommon to be gone from home, hours on end, on our bikes, with a wrapped sandwich in the basket of our bikes, as we explored the neighborhood, sans helmet, fearless, and full of childhood ideas. We played jax, and foursquare, tetherball, and school. We swam, and jumped out of the pool if we heard the ice cream truck jingling along the road. We ate our dripping popsicles sitting on the curb, and then saved our sticks for crafts later. We ate dinner with our families, then we congregated outside again to play ball and even the occasional game of ding dong ditch it at night. It was a wonderful time!!!! Thanks for the memories!!
It's All Connected says
I’ve never heard of calling out but all the rest is familiar. We were expected to stay outside until mealtimes, in good weather, and cam in at night only when it got dark. Who wanted to be inside with the folks anyway! ~ Maureen
Linda/patchwork says
Those were the days, right?
I grew up in Texas…a suburb of Dallas. We weren’t allowed to ‘call out’ anyone. We were expected to go to the door and knock.
But, there were always kids outside playing. Riding bikes..no helmets…playing in places that would be too ‘dangerous’, by today’s standards.
We all survived and had the best time. Sometimes coming in during the heat of the day…it was Texas ,after all…but, right back out there after dinner..or supper, at my house.
Great memories. Today’s kids don’t know what they’re missing.
Bonnie says
I grew up in UTah. NO calling out here but we did play kick the can, hide and seek, basketball, four square, and football in the street and all over the neighborhood. My friends and I love riding our bicycles (with baskets but without helmuts) to the library with a stop at the bakery for a cookery on the way home. We went to the Drive-in for a “RED MULE”, a devilshly tart, sour phosphate that would have the FDA cringing over the amount of red dye in that drink.
Ahhh….the good old days.
LANA says
I had a very similar childhood in Queens, NY. But we would “call for” our friends, and ring the kitchen doorbell on the side of the house (everyone had a kitchen door on the side). We also lived close and one only had to walk down the block to find a friend. We often had stick ball games in the street and lots of stoop games. In the summer everyone’s parents would sit on the front stoop in the evenings (no air-conditioning) and visit each other while us kids would catch lightening bugs in glass jars. What a great time. When I say things to my kids like this they think I am nuts. But I think we were better off. We used to have a really large empty lot (several acres) up the street where we would dig, play games and climb trees all day. Really had to use our imaginations. Thanks for jogging my memories are as precious as mine.
LANA says
That’s what happens when I don’t proof-read. I meant your memories must be as precious to you as mine are to me. Also the other day I meant to say you look like Cindy Joseph, not Crawford. I felt so silly afterwards!
Syndi of Beachnut Lane says
I grew up in Mass. We knocked on doors, no calling out. So many great memories…jumping rope for hours, making a hop scotch grid down the entire length of the road, all the neighborhood kids playing board games on my porch from morning until dinner time. My neighbor , who had 6 kids, used to ring a big cow bell when it was time for the kids to come home for dinner. Oh, and no one ever wore a helmet to ride a bike or rollerskate!
AshTreeCottage says
I grew up on the North Shore of Chicago in the area where so many John Hughes movies were filmed. I skated on that same skating rink that Kevin did in Home Alone. I remember my Daddy taking the train to work on those same tracks that Kevin crossed and my Pediatrician was upstairs from the “drug store” where Kevin stole the toothbrush. We rode bikes everywhere. We went to the beach all the time, summer, fall and winter. We caught lightning bugs, drank root beer floats and put on plays in my backyard. A wonderful childhood indeed, but we never used the calling out method. Wonder why we never thought of it?
Big Hugs,
Susan and Bentley
Blondie's Journal says
My memories are so similar to yours…growing up on the prairies of Illinois. We lived in a little neighborhood of pre~fab homes and we were all the best of friends. We played many games under the streetlights. At 9:00, all the porch lights went on, summoning us home. We were never afraid, there was no crime. We had to drive way out to the closet town to buy groceries and such until stores started to spring up around us. Although Chicago was just 25 miles away, it felt like it was as far as NYC!
Great memories and a great post!!
XO,
Jane
Teresa says
Oh yes..Calling out. Kind of sing-song kind of voice. Those where the days! like you we were out all day. Made up our own games. Plus, red rover, kick the can, red light/green light, bike riding, playing in the creek. Midwest living at it’s best! This was in G.B. Wi.
M says
I grew up in a suburb of Boston and we did the calling out thing…something like hi-o insert name.
nobeckmann says
I grew up in Springfield, OH, in the late 50’s, and we didn’t name it anything…but we surely did “call out.” We would stand outside our neighbor’s house and call “Hey Marsha” “Hey Marsha” emphasis on the Mar part of Marsha! Sing song, for sure. I am absolutely certain I never once knocked on any door. Calling was how it was done! I didn’t know anyone else ever did that until I read your blog. I wonder how the technique spread!
We played
Kim@Snug Harbor says
Oh, I loved this post! We “called” for our friends when I was a kid, growing up in Chicago. I did a post on it if you want to read about it.
http://snugharborbay.blogspot.com/2011/09/river-wild.html
What fun memories!
She'sSewPretty says
I lived all over the place when I was young but I don’t think I’ve ever been “called out”. I do remember playing outside until the lights came on though. My friends always lived a distance away so we would call each other and then meet “half way”.
Susie says
Claudia, Thank you for the childhood memory. The neighbor boy would call out for my brother.He could not whistle..he would say very loudly” ee-er-eet” All of us girls would laugh and say “Mark your friend is here” LOL xo, Susie
Haworth says
When we stood outside and called on our friends in my old neighborhood we didn’t use names but a kind of a very high-pitched ah-ah-AH! (And if we saw one of their parents we referred to them as “So-and-so’s Mother” when we addressed them, as in, “Anthony’s mother, is Anthony home?”)
Debby says
I grew up in the country. I lived next door to my grandparents. We were within walking distance to a tiny town….100 people. I occassionaly would walk into town to play with other girls but they were so different than I was…..I can’t explain why but they were. I mostly palyed by myself and my dolls and dogs. I know that I missed out on alot. Glad my kids grew up in neighborhoods.
Annette T. says
I grew up in Flint and spent summers at Lake Tipsico outside of Fenton. I don’t remember the calling out, there were just so many of us, we just hung out til after dark. I remember one hot summer day a bunch of us walked from the Lake into Fenton, over 7 miles, but we didn’t care, we were out having fun. One of my favorite memories of back then was when Dad raked the fall leaves and we could put potatoes wrapped in aluminum foil in the burning pile to bake, to be rewarded with an awesome baked potato. Fun days for sure.
The Boston Lady says
I grew up in the suburbs of Toronto and we had a similar “calling out” especially in our younger years. Those were the days when you could roam a distance from home safely. My mother had a distinctive whistle she would do from our front porch when it was time for me to come home. I could always hear it no matter where I was. I used to think I was so very far away, but in reality I think I was just around the corner most likely. My husband and I adopted a similar whistle to get our kids attention out in public – and he uses it with me and I him, especially at Costco! Haha. Ann
LuvWheaties says
I grew up in Los Angeles in the 50s. We didn’t call out. We knocked on the front door and asked the mom (moms rarely worked in those days) if so and so could come out and play. But usually, everyone was already outside playing. We rode bikes, skated, played kick the can in the street, and played hopscotch on the sidewalks. In the summer, we would be outside all day, coming home for a quick lunch. Dads would stand on the porch and whistle for their kids when it was time to come home for dinner. Every dad had their own distinct sound, and we always knew whose dad was whistling. Then we’d head back outside, with the understanding that we would come home when the street lights came on. Good memories!
Joanne says
How cool! Since I lived in the city we would call friends from outside several stories down. Also Our Moms would call out to us when it was time for dinner or if she needed a few things from the store. I love the pictures of your doll house. I haven’t started mine yet.
Blessings, Joanne
Olive Cooper says
In rural South Carolina we usually rode our bikes to someone’s house and knocked on the door and asked if so and so could come out and play. We used to ride our bikes on the train tracks. Can you imagine?
Echoes From the Hill says
I think it was mostly a 50’s and 60’s thing, and possibly regional.
I lived in a suburb of Chicago when I was a child and my grandparents lived in Central Illinois, in a small town. The calling out was very common in both areas. Only we put an “oh” in front of the name. It was “Oh, Di-Ann”, etc. I was thinking about that recently, and wondered if it was done in other areas.
Your post was really a nice trip down memory lane.
nancyr
AuntLou says
Are you joking? My mother would have told us to knock on the door or ring the bell.
There were woods and swamp, a public (as in not church) cemetery and a Navy base nearby. Some of the other moms thought mine was too strict, but we were to leave our own (very large)yard with permission, only. A lot of neighborhood games were played in our yard.
We were warned not to go near strangers who stopped in the road. Sure enough, one day it happened. Somebody offered my two blonde sisters candy. The older one politely and loudly refused and they ran to the shelter of the house.
Of course, this was also when we had bomb drills. There was also the Cuban missile crisis. My mother had been a plane spotter in WWII & my father was a WWII vet. There were too many places around our six house neighborhood where no mom could see us. When there was trouble, we were not usually there because my mother kept such close tabs on us.
How I do run on! These warm days do bring it back.
Donna says
Thank you for this walk down memory lane!! Yes, yes, yes, calling out was THE way for kids to contact each other here in Massachusetts, too, back in the 50’s and 60’s! For me it was two sisters, “Jeeeeeeeeeaaaaaan, Char…leeeeeeeeeeene.” I miss those days. God, how I do. My girls, who are in their 20’s, did not do this. They rang people’s bells and their friends rang ours. Maybe it was because back in the 50’s and 60’s, nobody had air conditioning and the windows and doors were always open during the summer, allowing our sing-songy voices to be easily heard through the screens? I don’t know. But again, Claudia, you made my day with this post!… Donna
Helga Hardenberg says
Isn’t it funny, all the same here over the pond in Germany.
I lived in the suburbs of Cologne in a street with five or more storeys houses. All the kids do it from the other side of the street. Not so much traffic in the sixties. But we had to cry our lungs out to reach a friend on the third or forth storey. Nobody cared about that noise. I kept that strong voice until now.
Hugs Helga
Crystal Rose Cottage says
I grew up in a suburban neighborhood that I feel was the most wonderful childhood. Sometimes I wish I could go back just to experience it for one day! WE did everything you did but I have never heard of the calling out thing. I think we knocked on the door or just waited outside until someone came out. Good memories!~Hugs, Patti
Ali @ Betty and Violet says
Where I live in England, as a child we didn’t call out, but knocked on doors and asked if our friend was allowed out to play ~ that was 40 odd years ago, but now my own little girl is able to call out to her friends over the hedge at the bottom of our garden and they do the same back! It feels so much like an extended family, being able to just call out in a familiar way ~ she is so lucky to be able to live and play like this I think. I loved reading about how you used to do this as a child ~ it seems so ‘safe’ growing up to have neighbours all looking out for our children.
Ali x
Sally@Enlightenment for the Sleepy says
Like Ail I’m from England and we ‘called for’ friends to come out to play. I remember walking to knock for the boy next door to play one rainy day but his other friend got there first and gave me a smug look. He asked:’can Robert come out to play?” to the boys mother, who gave a horrified look and replied:’oh, no it’s raining!” and turned him away. I remember walking up to the door and asking: ‘does Robert want to play?” – making no mention of outside at all- and Roberts mother invited me in. It was then my turn to give the other friend a smug look. I was all of 6 year old! Thanks for the trip down memory lane. PS: In England Bungalow is the name given to a one story home. What does it mean here? It still confuses me , Sally xx
Terri says
Interesting memory Claudia! It sounds like you grew up in a great place.
Now what I find interesting is that I grew up not far from you, as you know. We did not do this calling out thing as far as I can remember. We knocked on the door. This would be in the 60s. and early 70s for me.
But otherwise, we were outside most of the time, playing hide and seek, baseball, dodge ball, four square, or riding our bikes. It was a lot of fun, and we didn’t have anything much really to play with.
Thanks for sharing your memories!
Hugs,
Terri
blhitchcock901 says
OMG. I always love your posts! Yes, yes. I rode my bike to the drug store for “penny” candy, got a coke float at the soda fountain, played baseball with the neighborhood boys because I was the only girl in a gang of 12 boys! I loved it. I only came home at meal times and then mama would call our names, “Boooooooonie, Bruuuuuuce, Beeeeeeverli.” I thought our little block was huge then. I go back there now and it’s no one we could hear from one end of the street to the others. It was so small. Visit “My Railroad Town” post. You can see my lovely little town. My shop is there.
Linda @ Itsy Bits And Pieces says
What a fun story, Claudia! Even though I’m a Minnesota girl, most of my childhood was spent in the South…we had to go up and knock on a door if we wanted to see a friend.
Corn in my Coffee-Pot says
I grew up in a Suburb outside Dallas (same as another commentor ahead of me)
We didn’t ‘call out’ either. You knocked on the door.
You played -rode bikes, roller skated, kick ball in the cul de sac, base ball in the back yard. We lived in an area that was semi-rural still– so we had two places that we played The Little Woods and The Big Woods.
We climbed trees, built forts, played Cowboys and Indians (not P/C now)…and hunted for Horny Toads, lightning bugs, and came in when the street light came on.
Listened for the ice cream truck, collected ‘RETURNS’ to pay our way into the city pool, and we had a Milk Man, that would let himself in, and put our dairy order (milk, yogurt, cheese) straight into the fridge!
Good times! Thanks for taking us back!
~Pat
Babajeza says
It’s definitely not a Michigan thing. We did it too where I grew up. Even my boys still did it.
My friend told me that she was asked by a kid thje other day how she and her friends could have lived without a cell phone, for example how would they see each other. Hahaha!
BeautifulDees says
Hello my sweet friend, I have not heard from you forever…hope all is well. I love your post.
LOve,Debbie:)
ImSoVintage says
My first house was just like yours, except for the brick part. My father finished the attic space as a room for my sister and I. We did not do the calling out and I don’t remember four square, but we played outside with all the neighborhood kids from dawn to dusk.
Laura
Nola says
My mom used to ring an old cowbell when she wanted me to come home. She kept it on the windowsill above the kitchen sink; I have it in my kitchen now.
Also, the rule was that everyone went home as soon as the street lights came on in the evening.
Natascha says
I live about 40 min from Detoit . I wish I could go back in time and see it when it was a good & thriving city.
Muddy Boot Dreams says
I don’t think we called it that, more like come out to play…wasn’t childhood wonderful. All that freedom, and running around, being called to dinner by your Mom..
Jen @ Muddy Boot Dreams
Rizzi says
WHEN I WAS A KID WE WENT TO THE DOOR AND RANG THE BELL…..THEN SAID CAN SO AND SO COME OUT AND PLAY……
GREAT MEMORIES……THANKS FOR SHARING WITH US……RIZZI
Beth Leintz says
Claudia- Thanks for the sweet memories. I grew up in a ranch house in a small town in ND and we didn’t do “calling out” but so many other things sound familiar-going out after dinner and playing 7 steps around the house, or freeze tag with neighborhood kids.
When it was close to bedtime, our Mom could just “call out” and we’d come home.
Plushpussycat says
Hi Claudia! These pics of your dollhouse are so sweet! They take me back to a simpler time–love it! :-) Jennifer
susie @ persimmon moon cottage says
I grew up in a suburb of St. Louis, Missouri. A bunch of us on our block did a version of calling out, only it was a whistle like double shreik done with our voices. I think we may have been too young to actually do a loud whistle. We spent summer days outside playing army, climbing trees, riding bikes etc. Everybody did have to go in when the streetlights came on. As you cut through everybody’s yards you could smell what was cooking for supper at their house. Remember the first summer night when the lightning bugs used to come out. We also had a little “confectionary” store nearby. That was the only type of store allowed to be open on Sunday. They sold bread, soda, maybe beer, lunchmeat, but especially all kinds of candy, mighty malts and dreamsickles and popsickles. Did anyone else have gravel and tar covered streets. It was fun to poke the tar bubbles with sticks when it got hot. My best friend still laughs about my mom making us take our shoes off when we came in so we didn’t track tar onto the carpet. And what was the first show you remember watching on your family’s first color TV. I watched a world series baseball game, and I didn’t even like baseball.