This post was contributed by a community member. The views expressed here are the author's own.

Health & Fitness

Northport Memories: Ain't Nothin' Never Came to No Good Up There On Choctaw Ridge

Building a domain of greatness in the hills overlooking Bayview Avenue.

It was the spring of 1955 and we decided to climb the steep hill through the woods behind our Bayview Avenue home and stake a claim at the ridge. I was nine and ready to rumble. My brother was 12 and a little more capable, or so I thought. 

Carrying with us a couple of dad’s shovels, we would establish an underground fort at the ridge, a complex engineering job that went on for weeks. During the excavation, we threw the earthen spoils down the hill, into the trees and underbrush.

Soon enough, the hole was about 4 or 5 feet deep and maybe 6 feet by 6 feet square. We covered it with some old doors and layered dirt over them, creating what we thought was a fool-proof cover. We now had a place where we could play with fire, smoke and challenge the trespass of other factions. For about a year or more, we maintained this fort as our outpost of autonomy. We stood staunchly on that ridge, as supreme commanders, challenging anyone who dared to tread on our sacred ground (weather permitting, of course).

Although it was great fun misbehaving, for me, the fort began to loose its intrigue when we accidentally set the woods on fire and the area was crawling with cops and firemen. I was not yet 10 and already worried about being “sent up.” Looking back, I have no idea where Mom & Dad were in this mega-mess. Our family
were tenants in this home and here my brother and I had a mining operation going just up the hill and they seemed oblivious to it all. We were up there with our friends, throwing rocks, smoking, cursing and playing with fire and none of it registered on their radar screen.

I think Dad may have woken up slightly when he noticed the earthen spoils which we had thrown down the hill, had washed further down with each rain storm until finally, sand and gravel was being deposited on our patio at the base of the hill.   A rather curious scenario he must have thought. How inconvenient that his lawn chair might not sit flush in the patio! When we told him that we had an underground fort up there, he was concerned for the obvious potential cave-in, but being an insurance man, the word liability instinctively rolled off his lips. He got out of his lawn chair and led the demolition squad at Choctaw Ridge on Easter Sunday, 1956.

In raising my own son, this was easy recall when I learned that he and his buddies had constructed a tree fort. He was about 12 then and I had a difficult time convincing my wife that the very existence of any fort could mean nothing but trouble. She told me that “boys will be boys” and that it was no big deal. Within weeks, we were introduced to Juvenile Intake Services in Kenosha, WI, dealing with a bit of a destructive ”mishap” that involved the boys and their tree fort. It was the beginning of a series of events that proved to be infamous. Most stories have a message.  When it comes to forts, “there ain’t nothin' never came to no good up there on Choctaw Ridge." Pass the biscuits, please.

Find out what's happening in Northportwith free, real-time updates from Patch.

We’ve removed the ability to reply as we work to make improvements. Learn more here

The views expressed in this post are the author's own. Want to post on Patch?