Many of the toys kids play with nowadays had not been invented when I was a kid. In fact, today’s kids probably would not recognize many of the ways we entertained ourselves in the 1950s.

As the days heat up I think back to the summers of my childhood. These memories often include the toys we played with back then.

During the winter we played with Lincoln Logs, Tinker Toys and board games but in the outdoors of summer our toys were even more fun.

Bicycles were essential in the summers of the 1950s. Most families had only one car and moms were not chauffeurs. You want to go somewhere? Walk or pedal!

My first bike was a big, ballooned-tired 26-inch second-hand bicycle that was too big for me. I mounted the bike from a tree stump and laid it down in the grass to dismount. As awkward as it was, I rode that behemoth proudly.

At the tender age of nine I took my life savings to the Gambles Store and purchased a new mid-weight bicycle. This bicycle was lighter and sleeker than the big ballooned-tired models but, in retrospect, with my weight and reckless riding style one of the older, heftier bikes would have been better suited.

A wooden plank and a cinder block (or two) created a challenging bicycle ramp which I learned to jump with ease. Not every jump was successful, however. It was on those failed jumps that I learned about pain. Extreme pain!

Ramp jumping sometimes broke the frame of my mid-weight bike and I became a regular customer at the blacksmith shop where Perry Ayers used a brazing process to make a repair. When the repair was complete I always asked, “How much do I owe you, Mr. Ayers?” He always answered, “Two bits!” That was 1950s talk for “25 cents.”

At the lumberyard we kids could have anything we wanted from the scrap pile near the big power saw. A chunk of lumber, four old mismatched wheels and a few more parts were all we needed to build a downhill racer. Our engineering methods were lacking so after a run down the hill we usually had to make repairs. We didn’t care. There are few things more fun for a 10-year-old boy than steering his own vehicle down a hill at a (relatively) high rate of speed.

On several occasions some of us neighborhood kids staged a carnival creating thrill rides out of whatever we could find. I engineered a marvelous “tilt-a-whirl” ride from a wash tub and a rope. After the rider settled him or herself into the tub, I wrapped a length of rope around the tub several times and then gave it a great tug. The tub spun a few times, usually spilling the occupant onto the grass. Like I said, it was a thrill ride. The charge was only a penny or two and I never had a rider complain that he or she didn’t get their money’s worth.

Squirt guns were wonderful toys of summer. Our squirt guns were brightly colored transparent plastic pistols, not the high-capacity weapons you can purchase today. The pistols held only a small amount of water and had a short range, but they were fun. It wasn’t a good hot summer day if you didn’t get soaked by a squirt gun.

Croquet was popular back then. The lawn game required some skill but often we put skill aside and used brute strength to go for distance rather than accuracy. By the time we were smacking the balls for distance, the rules had gone by the wayside and our fun bore little resemblance to the actual game of croquet.

Baseball was still the all-American game in the 1950s and unorganized baseball was the most fun. On an empty lot in the neighborhood several of us boys rounded up players on a near daily basis. If we couldn’t secure enough players for teams (which did not necessarily require nine players) we played “work up.” Watching organized youth baseball years later I concluded that our back lot games without adults around were far more fun.

If I were a kid today I’m sure I would want to play with all the fancy electronic games. However, I seriously doubt that a kid building his thumb muscles on an electronic game ever has as much fun as we had with our much simpler toys in the summers of the 1950s.

Arvid Huisman can be contacted at huismaniowa@gmail.com. ©2025 by Huisman Communications.