I grew up in the 50's.
It wasn't so nice, really.
During that decade, I aged from 4 to 14.
I had 1 attempt on my life because I was on the wrong street at the wrong time. All the kids on my street were of one gang, all the others were fought
off. I was unlucky enough to get caught outside my 'safety zone', was dragged to a river wall and tossed over. It was a 20 foot drop onto rocks.
That wasn't the only serious thing that happened...but, I'd rather forget.
I fought incessantly because I had to. It was WWII residue, father depleted, rubble strewn Holland for me and definitely not a 'pretty place'. I
moved to Canada in '54.
During those 6 years ('til the 60's) in Canada, I STILL fought incessantly, because I was considered a "DP' or Displaced Person... hugely reviled,
picked on and laughed at. I had to battle everyone I knew because I was 'different'. What was worse, I had to go back to grade 1 from grade 3
because I didn't know English. It was hard and I survived because I refused to be beaten. I managed to skip grade 2 because I was a quick learner.
The '50's were a time when racism was everywhere and kindness was at a premium. Those were the days of ducktail haircuts, hoods, switchblade knives
Sorry, but the '50's leave a sour taste in my mouth.
There's was a building boom, though... so at least a lot of men
were making a decent living for their families.
I can't speak for the ladies of the era, but I don't think it was 'peaches and cream' for them either.
Edit to add 'STILL"
[edit on 30/1/07 by masqua]