Return to I felt a disturbance in the fun, as if a million playgrounds cried out, and then (idea)

My [elementary school] in southern [Michigan] had a massive jungle gym made of large, darkly stained wooden logs. There was a [slide], [bridge]s, one of those wonderful [fireman's pole]s, and a [tire swing] in the middle of it. We'd play tag on the [wooden playground], and those who touched the wood chips on the ground were out of [the game].

I remember Jason falling in the wood chips after one [field day]. I remember the day that Eli fell during a game, and split his forehead wide open on one of the protruding logs. I remember the day Amanda's arm got caught in the chains of the tire swing and was broken. The lunch ladies always fussed over us, but it was a [waste of time]. We always returned to the jungle gym.

Countless joys and countless pains were associated with that [structure].

I remember going back to the elementary school to visit in [middle school] and [junior high]. I played with the kids during their recess, and though they were five years younger, they played the same games that we had.

Corey and I visited the school this past [summer]. They've got a near injury-proof [plastic jungle gym] up now. They've laid a [basketball court] where the wooden playground used to be.

[Recess is dead].