Jumping the Fence

The fence consisted of a cement wall and a wooden fence. It was like a barrier to keep all the elementary kids in. For us, it was a barrier to break. We often played kickball, and the goal was to kick the ball over the fence so they had to let us out to retrieve the ball. It was a growing wall since we were on the many hillsides of San Francisco. It was at its highest point where we played kickball. I took many trips up the hill to retrieve the ball. What a strange obsession emphasized with great pride, not unlike the homerun hitters of the MLB trotting the bases around the park.

One day, after the yard had closed one cement park hooligans had dared me to jump the cement fence onto the cement ground of the schoolyard. Although I was somewhat hesitant, I was not known to turn down a dare. We found a loose board in the fence and stood on top of the cement wall, with the empty yard below us. Mind you, I wore flip flop, hence not a lot of stability. I stood there and wondered what the heck I was doing. But dare was a dare. I don't remember who the other person was, but he jumped and was still alive. The pressure was even greater on me. It seemed I was jumping into an abyss and I could never survive. The distance down seemed insurmountable, but I had to approve that I was not a chicken. I knew it was going to hurt, but I had to.

Slowly I got up the courage to take what seemed the giant leap at all cost. I closed my eyes and hoped for the best. I did it, and I was still alive. My ankle was soar, but no one could take away from me the chutzpah it took to challenge that wall and my leap of faith.

The t finish our deed, we had to climb the rod iron fence so we could go home.