You are currently viewing Adventures in Sherwood Forest

Adventures in Sherwood Forest

It’s flashback time again: Summer, 1952, in Flushing, Queens, NYC. Welcome to a world where 7th graders still had imaginations and could have fun outdoors. You know, before well-meaning adults interfered and screwed it up.

On a typical Saturday morning in June, I would leave my second-story town apartment at about 9 or 10 a.m. and walk half a block to my buddy Ken’s town apartment. I’d holler, “Hey Kenny!”

Sometimes his grandmother, who sat near the window, would nod “no” to me. That meant he was still sleeping. If he was up, he’d come out, and we would get serious about our fun. Should we go a block away and yell, “Hey Tommy” to get another body?

Or— should we go back home and grab our newly acquired bow and arrows? We both had received a much-begged-for small bow (about a 20 lb pull) and some beautiful target arrows for recent birthdays.

We had also recently seen the old movie “Robin Hood” with Errol Flynn, originally released in 1938, but thankfully released again in 1951 for us to enjoy.

Enter imagination. A nearby large wooded area was “Sherwood Forest” (yes, there were wooded areas in NYC in 1951. Hopefully, there still are). I became “Robin Hood,” and Ken was “Little John or Will Scarlett” (go ahead and Google it, Jim). I was the oldest by one year, and it was my idea. We were being chased by the mean Sheriff of Nottingham and his mean band of thugs, only hoping and praying for the good King Richard, the Lionheart, to return and kick the wicked Prince or King John out of England.

God, what fun we had and what stupid things we did with those bow and arrow sets. We survived shooting the arrows straight up in the air and watching them come down pretty damn close to our dumb-ass heads. We also didn’t hit anyone with arrows we shot into trees and the sides of dirt hills. All while chasing or running from the Sheriff’s men.

Occasionally, we’d rob an imaginary super-rich, evil dude and give his money to the good, struggling poor folks near Sherwood. (Golly, we were imaginary leftists.) If a cute girl came our way (never happened), she could be Maid Marian, and we would rescue her. Since that never happened, we stuck with chasing or running from the evil Sheriff.

Uh oh. It’s time to go home for lunch, supper, or because your mom said to be home by a certain time. Oh well, we can take up the movie where we left off tomorrow or later today. Enuf.

This Post Has One Comment

  1. Fran

    I can’t believe you didn’t find a Maid Marian back then! Guess you had to wait until you were older to find her! Another entertaining story.

Leave a Reply