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One of my greatest joys as a kid was swinging on the swing set in our backyard. It was the old metal type that was sunk in the ground to prevent tip overs. From as far back as I can remember I would pump my legs until I was swinging as high as possible -- with no fear.
The same goes for climbing to the top of the monkey bars and hanging upside down by my knees. Or when I rode my bicycle down Hogan's Hill at the speed of light. Again no fear.
If our parents only knew how many times I and other neighborhood kids entered the Peterson Hospital construction site as it was being built down the street, we would have been in big trouble. We waited until the workers left and then climbed in the open window passages and jumped and swung onto the scaffolding inside. I feared nothing but getting caught.
However, something gradually changed as adulthood kicked in. Perhaps it was the constant preaching from adults that we would get hurt climbing the high walls along the creek or tumble from the tree houses we rudely constructed. Something must have sunk in because now I do fear heights or taking a fall if even off the curb of the sidewalk.
I suppose it proves that many of our fears are taught, not learned. And even more than ever, I have learned that we must listen to our gut when we feel something is just not right. I find myself parking closer to the door of the stores I visit for fear of being approached by strangers seeking money or wanting to carjack my vehicle.
I look around before getting out of my car even when I am going to places such as the library or the doctor's office. I keep my keys in hand and my purse close to my body when walking in poorly lit places. The fears are not unsubstantiated.
Case in point: I was at a store in Center Wheeling one recent evening. A young teen came running into the store very upset. Someone had just stolen his bicycle that had been parked near the front door. He was only in the store for a few minutes when the theft occurred.
Another shopper saw the thief riding away and immediately called the police. Store video cameras caught the theft on film. I am hoping by now that the bike has been recovered, but I doubt the victim will ever be the same. The bicycle had sentimental value more than anything to the boy as it had belonged to his late father.
Will this kid ever trust anyone again? Probably not. Will the thief continue his unlawful ways? Probably. Keep your eyes and ears open, folks. You never know who is watching and waiting.
Heather Ziegler can be reached via email at hziegler@theintelligencer.net.