As a child, did you have a fort, tree house, play house or something like that which was a retreat for you (and perhaps friends)?

My grandparents had a row of willow trees in the far corner of their back yard. It made this little cove around the back, the perfect spot for hiding and reading and playing make believe, because it was extremely private and far away from the actual house and living area.

In a field behind our house was an old oak that had been nearly uprooted by some hurricane that predated me. It survived, but grew into a rainbow-like arch, with its former crown almost touching the ground. Successive generations of neighborhood kids built tree houses at various points along the arch. The older tree houses—mostly just platforms, really—were never removed, but just served as foundations for the new construction.

Nothing grandiose ever materialized, because we were just scrounging scrap materials from local construction sites. The most ambitious it ever got was a hinged roof I put on that could be raised and lowered with a rope-and-pulley system.

It was my dream to move into that tree house someday. I intended to cook my meals on my dad’s propane camp stove, and just go the 50 yards to my parent’s house for pooping purposes and such. That plan never quite gelled, of course, but for most of my youth, it was the center of my world.

I always wanted a tree house, but there aren’t any suitable trees around here. I used to make sheet forts. Pretty good ones. For awhile, we had a big refrigerator box that I loved. Didn’t last long though.

The trees where I live are too tall for a treehouse. But I have about 3 acres of woods behind my house. That was pretty much my playground. My parents are older and don’t ever go back there. My father gave me some rope and I made a nice rope swing that survived all up until that snowstorm last week. My friends would bike over on the old road back there (used to be used by colonists who didn’t want to pay for the toll road) and we would make our own adventures, attempt to make forts out of branches that never lasted long. The only time my parents were ever concerned about us out there was when there was a murder in the house next door and the police searched our property for evidence (long story). But other than that we were fine back there. We all tried tried to run away there at some point, too.
Reminiscing makes me miss the days when I was young and fancy-free

I hung out at my much older neighbors garage. He was a custom car builder and had tons of car models that he’d let me play with. Guys would come over and talk shop and drink beer and stuff… stuff… stuffffffff… I felt real mature for my ripe old age of 8 years old.

Then he got busted for dealing crack.

My best friend had a cool tree house her dad built that had a fire mans pole as an alternative route down. It was great fun, but, I was seriously dog piled at the bottom of the pole a few times and once sprained my ankle really badly. lol

What great memories. Thanks for sharing!

My brother had a tree house that he built himself. It was a little ramshackle but sturdy and he let his sisters play in it too, it wasn’t boys only! But what we really had more fun with was our climbing tower converted into a playhouse. In the middle section we would lay an old wooden door across the bars so that it became 2 stories. Then we would drape all kinds of sheets and blankets over it so it was completely enclosed. We played house in it and once I was the wife and my brother was the husband. He would go to work and we would kiss goodbye. My brother was such a mush!! Oh well, he needed to be with a bunch of sisters.
At the end of the day we had to break down our house and bring our door inside in case it rained. It was fun constantly rebuilding it and changing it. Cheapest toy ever that old door! We got a lot of good use out of it.