1968 here. Held my dad’s hand when he died of cancer in May 1990. I am older now than he ever was. How I wish I could hear his whistle just one more time. Someday.
I love this man, in the type of way only platonic love for another man can exist… However one thing I must note having lived on both sides of the pond. (Ok California probably not the best example but that’s where the job was thus that is where I was put) I’m back in Scotland now. I’m not quite gen x and slightly too old to be a millennial. (It seems to me that the way this is counted varies by demographics) Anyway what was my point again? Apologies I have indulged in my Friday beer. 🤔 Ahh yes. In Scotland, kids still play outside and these rules are still the standard. In fact as I type I can hear a particularly tough lady shouting on “Zak” and her preferred method of call is a cooking pot being rattled by a wooden spoon. In the short time it has taken me to spout this word salad young Zachary is surely in deep trouble as I now heard his fathers voice. A single shout. Followed by the unmistakable rustling of a “tarmac man” jacket being hastily thrown on. Oh I feel for that boy. It’s one thing not to come back at the sound of the pots and pan. But to have reached the level where father must put on his wet work clothes again, most likely mid beer, oh my, Tis a fate worse than death. I guess what I’m getting at is that Scotland (I can’t vouch for the rest of the Uk) seems to be approximately 8-10 years behind in the culture wars. “BLM” movement lasted about a day here. I mean the first question was probably “do you even have a football team?” Much like isis who tried to “bring religious violence” to Scotland…. Was stopped by a baggage handler having a cigarette and just happened to be given the excuse to kick a flaming man to death. In the words of Billy connely (who also asked the football team question) “I have never been more proud of where I am from” 😂
Read my own comment and I can see how discombobulated it is. No more comments AFTER my Friday beer. (It’s a very serious thing my Friday beer as I don’t drink outwith that you see) ✌️
My father had the same whistle and we all knew what that sounds meant. That 2nd whistle meant trouble was waiting. What i would do to go back and hear that first whistle just one more time. RIP Dad 🙏
My dad's whistle could be heard from coast to coast and I grew up in Missouri. You, good sir, are a treasure. You really brought a smile to my face today. I'm going to go call my dad.
I stepped out one day to whistle for my children. As I did a neighborhood child was on the sidewalk. He asked "you're not going to whistle are you" I replied "why yes I am. It's time for my children to come home". He replies "you don't understand, when you whistle we ALL have to go home"! Oh... The power of the whistle!
Just a little note to say thank you for trying to keep alive the "old ways" It was a kinder and gentler world and I long for these young people to somehow understand! I truly am thankful to have experienced it. God help us all!!!
This made me tear up. My grandfather had “the whistle.” My 75yr old mother still summons me this way. 😊I still get the feeling of fear when I hear the whistle but I also love it.
Not only the father whistle, but the call of a mother. My siblings' name was Dawn. The neighbors, confused at the tiny crazy woman, yelling "Ding Dong" repeatedly at the top of her lungs from the porch balcony. Dean Dawn! Ding Dong! Dean Dawn! Ding Dawn! Suppers ready! 🤣🤣🤣
Oh yes, my father had such a whistle. One that I used when it came time for me to be a father. A whistle that I have passed down to my son. Although now the circumstances are different. Even the penalty may be different for it truly was a different time. The power of that whistle, is undeniable.
This is Sad & unfortunately 100% true.. We were the last of the old ways.. ~ i worked hard to stop saying "Retard" all the time. and after 12-15 years i 99% succeeded... My daughter once hit teen years easilly, effortlessly brought it back..
In the times of my youth, the land was vast, and the human sound didn't carry as far as my feet could take me. Nor the two-wheeled mechanism that we called a BMX could free me from the sight of another. So my mother, yes, the strong and noble lady that my father put in charge of my well-being while he was out of town, working to supply ample resources to meet the needs of the family. My mother used a school bell that her mother's mother used to call her children in. Trained, we were to hear that sound that even now though both are gone, it plays in the back of my mind. She would ring that bell, and we knew we only had minutes to return to a place to call or show up in the yard. If we would hear it a second time without making a desperate attempt to meet our adjective, we would be grounded and told to wait till your father comes home. Ah, that sentence, "Wait till your father comes home." Even after my mother would do everything she could do to us in the days of parents' rights, those words meet. We would pray and pray we did for Dad to come home healthy and well-rested, but that is a story for another day.
your mother, the strong and noble lady that your father put in charge. I know that you wrote this to be tongue in cheek, but it is so eloquent it's actually beautiful. and I thank you for writing it The key phrases my father put in charge our world has changed so much while remember when men actually got credit for building the world and women were so proud of them children were proud of their fathers women wanted to be protected by strong and industrious man. now we have these millennials that think this is their world just because they were born into it women complaining about men having their names on everything but they don't seem to realize that these men whose names are on everything originally built everything everything that we use now men before us built it. anyway thank you
My mom was the whistler. It raised the hairs in the back of my neck. If it was a short whistle we were good. But the one that was higher pitched and longer... geez. We knew we were in trouble. Miss those days.
My father had one of those. If you heard it and didn’t respond within 10 minutes there was hell to pay. My brother and I tested the distance once. I at a mile him at a mile and a half. He was grounded for a week.
My father's whistle was a forerunner of impending doom.... For if his whistle needed to be unleashed upon the world it meant a debt upon my very existence was required to be paid by me.... NEVER could I nor my siblings afford to pay such debt for that of a second whistle and I couldn't even begin to fathom what cataclysmic events would follow having to take his vehicle to come look for me 😵
Oh my God. My father had an unmistakable loud whistle .worse near the water the sound carried forever. I to this day cannot duplicate that whistle. No horn, she'll, instruments needed.
My parents had a triangular dinner bell that was rung with with an iron stick and echoed ominously through the wild valley where we lived. It, also, was a sound that would not be denied. If we failed to arrive, gasping for breath, on the back porch, it would be followed by the fearsome roaring of, "Goddamnit Shanon! Get your ass home!" I shudder to recall it.
Oh Father's whistle. I would drop everything in a split second and ran, ran as fast as I could to be in my father's presence before the second whistle. I had forgotten about the whistle. Thank you for this nugget of time travelling ;)
I grew up on a dairy farm. If we weren't needed to unload hay, during the day, or rounding up heifers, we roamed the woods and pastures. We had the " dinner bell". It was a small bell mounted arop the attached garage of the house. If it rang, it was time for something, and you better hurry!
when i was growing up, my brother and were relegated to playing outside as well. and we knew the whistle. hell, our friends knew our whistle. it did not matter if the street light was on or not. we would hear the whistle and whatever game we were playing suddenly stopped. our friends would say, "guess it's time for you to go home. see you tomorrow". and that was that.
It was moms whistle which brought 4 gen X children running to it. Now my gen X son has a whistle identical to it which brings his children running even faster than his mom's brought them. Everyone knows dads whistle! I love the memories you conjure.
My sons know when they hear me bellow. Thanks to the army, I can project my voice for miles...and my boys know that bellowing call means get a move on. Lol
Good Sir Father had pasted done years ago sadly But to this day I can be were ever and hear that whistle knowing my father has pasted it is still imprinted on my soul to turn to make sure I've only heard that sweet melody a few times since his passing but I turn and look as if he were there to this day Why you ask Well if you've never received 3 lick from a Kleen work belt then you truly will never know why
😂 It was my mother that called for me to come home before the street lights came on. She didn’t have a whistle. She had a method of hollering my name that sounded in pitch and tone like she was calling for pigs. You could hear her 3 blocks away 😢😂
Lol. That was mine, too. Nevermind the street lights. When my dad whistled you better come running. And you could hear his whistle from inside my best friends house 2 blocks away.
ah yes, "the whistle", it can be soft when you are in a public places and he just wants to get your attention without deafening others or it can be heard across the whole country when trying to get your ass back home! I am still graced by it here and there by my dad. (or his specific way of honking the car to get my attention when he drives by and not freak out every other drivers around)
My sister had that reputation with my nephew's friends.. it was so bad that when she started yelling for the 4 boys the kids that were not playing with my nephews would go find them saying"Your momma's calling better get home before she starts going door to door".
like so many other comments ,, me= "how far can i wonder" .. dad= "as far as you can hear my whistle and be home before the second!".. ok!?!?!???? that's when i too learned to whistle back so he knew i heard him and I was coming
Awesome! You have nailed my childhood experience (the 70s were my youngling days). My dad's whistle was distinct and sooo loud! You sir, are a true talent. Thank you!
I heard the truck door shut after a second whistle one time. But I was running so fast that I could not stop and hit the truck before he got it started. That was a terrible day indeed.
Never a whistle from either parent. A specific, familial, nick name was yelled out. I responded with a yell of "Coming!" If I didn't respond, they knew i was down the block at the beach & they knew which cliff to shout down.
thankyou sir you are a artist and a scholar for brightening our days and some perspective on how the world has changed not always for the best. you have helped me in ways that you can not imagine as I go through my recovery from a serious back injury ,you always manage to brighten my day during this difficult time and for that you are a saint.
It was my mums whistle we heard. It was louder then dad's. And we had 5 minutes to get there,or else. She did the two whistle. First one was the call, the second one was a warning. You could hear it for blocks
If the whistle happened after 10pm. You knew you were in trouble because your parents heard the message on the television "It's 10 o'clock, do you know where your children are?" because they just remembered they have children and they are in the outside.
I cannot whistle that loudly. But, I did learn how to holler in the army. My kids can hear me anywhere within a mile..... and they know it is damn well time to run home.
😂🎉 our neighborhood had Mrs Chambers. Her " time to get in the house all you yard apes!" Was the neighborhood warning to us 11 neighborhood kids that hung out. We listened to her because all the moms talked and went to church at Saint Rita's so.... 😂😂😂.. we knew.. universal mom call...
@@jeannemarie3704 Nice. I spent a good bit of time growing up in the country, so would be quite a bit aways from home doing who knows what... But, I bloody well knew I had to have my ass in the house before dark unless I had a really good reason.
It wasn’t the sound of a whistle but my own name said in full that struck horror. If mom used our full name it meant some great transgression was thought to have been committed and trial was about to commence. You’d better arrive quick to explain yourself swifter than a suspicious justice was fully delivered.
I enjoy listening to your tales of Yore as it brings me back so vividly to those times past that was so good in our youth. My friend you have a true gift of story telling that should be put down and recorded for future generations to know what they have missed out on when families were united as one, played together, talked to each other which has become a dying art form in todays world. God bless you for your walks down memory lane 🙏🙏🙏👊👍💪👌
Remembering the times it was not only suggested that we go outside but we were band from the house. Ah those were the days as we ran about in packs creating our own fun without causing property damage or intentionally hurting anyone. Now that’s not to say no one got hurt as the double dare would occasionally be set in motion but any maiming was unintentional and we always ran for help after convincing our nearest and dearest to climb to the top of trees or jump from them. Ah the days of summer were sweet and how well we learned the laws of gravity, motion, and Murphy’s. Darwin was right and so we survived.
My mother would call us, 2 of us would come running, 1 well 5mins from my dad pulling the air horn of the truck . If he wasn't back in 5mins from that oh he was in trouble.
My father had a whistle like that. I heard it recently during an argument with my husband and brother because my sister in law made derogatory remark about him. They stfu. My dad made brother and sil leave. 😂😂😂
@dadbotvet Great stuff. U should add 2 or 3 seconds at the end of video so one can have time to hit like before it moves to the next video. Many other utubers have done this. Makes it easier to hit like.
Dads 1st whistle was the indicator to get home asap 2nd whistle was get home now , dont let dad get out his old air raid whistle if so there was gona be a problem that was whistle #3
Its mothers whistle these days and yes its same rules..... only extent was my parents called cops to bring me home she wouldnt get out. Then it was a verbal onslaut and more chores then chinderella. Relentless little woman would even foam at the mouth and through things if you looked her in the eye.
It wasn't the 2nd whistle from Dad. It was mom calling all of our first names/middle names (there were 9 of us kids so she yelled out 18 names total). You came running full speed or spanking would commence.
Boomer here: i would let my mother yell 10-15 times before I'd answer her. If my father yelled i was instantly running for the house, because i knew if he yelled a second time he was on his way to grab a switch from the nearest tree. If i didn't make it home before he skun the leaves off of it it was gonna be used to put stripes on my ass no matter who was watching. He didn't believe in wasting a perfectly good switch.
That's hilarious mine wasn't a whistle. My dad would yell my name . If I didn't respond fast enough there was a second call. My full name if I heard that well let's just say it wasn't a good feeling because I knew.
OMG! I didn't know we were related! 🤪 Seriously, though, did Your dad use two fingers in his mouth? If my five brothers and I were too far away to hear the whistle - which carried for miles - you might as well run away from home, because the consequences were just too dire! 😳
1968 here. Held my dad’s hand when he died of cancer in May 1990. I am older now than he ever was. How I wish I could hear his whistle just one more time. Someday.
Sir you are an Ernest Hemingway poetically putting our lives into perspective for those who are unaware of how Gen X participated in being young.
I love this man, in the type of way only platonic love for another man can exist…
However one thing I must note having lived on both sides of the pond. (Ok California probably not the best example but that’s where the job was thus that is where I was put)
I’m back in Scotland now. I’m not quite gen x and slightly too old to be a millennial. (It seems to me that the way this is counted varies by demographics)
Anyway what was my point again? Apologies I have indulged in my Friday beer. 🤔
Ahh yes. In Scotland, kids still play outside and these rules are still the standard. In fact as I type I can hear a particularly tough lady shouting on “Zak” and her preferred method of call is a cooking pot being rattled by a wooden spoon.
In the short time it has taken me to spout this word salad young Zachary is surely in deep trouble as I now heard his fathers voice. A single shout. Followed by the unmistakable rustling of a “tarmac man” jacket being hastily thrown on.
Oh I feel for that boy.
It’s one thing not to come back at the sound of the pots and pan. But to have reached the level where father must put on his wet work clothes again, most likely mid beer, oh my, Tis a fate worse than death.
I guess what I’m getting at is that Scotland (I can’t vouch for the rest of the Uk) seems to be approximately 8-10 years behind in the culture wars.
“BLM” movement lasted about a day here. I mean the first question was probably “do you even have a football team?”
Much like isis who tried to “bring religious violence” to Scotland…. Was stopped by a baggage handler having a cigarette and just happened to be given the excuse to kick a flaming man to death. In the words of Billy connely (who also asked the football team question) “I have never been more proud of where I am from” 😂
Read my own comment and I can see how discombobulated it is. No more comments AFTER my Friday beer. (It’s a very serious thing my Friday beer as I don’t drink outwith that you see) ✌️
@@jamiewalker8772I am the opposite, grew up over the pond, escaped at 17 and NEVER looked back 😂
AMEN BROTHER... "The Whistle" summoner of Children - Grandchildren - Family Dogs WE all knew to present post haste.
The second whistle. Omg I got cold chills.
My father had the same whistle and we all knew what that sounds meant. That 2nd whistle meant trouble was waiting. What i would do to go back and hear that first whistle just one more time. RIP Dad 🙏
and if dad ever got to whistle 3.... oh sweet baby jesus hell was coming
My dad's whistle could be heard from coast to coast and I grew up in Missouri. You, good sir, are a treasure. You really brought a smile to my face today. I'm going to go call my dad.
Playing outside and the sun starts going down. That's when I knew this was about to be a horrific tail. 🤣
I stepped out one day to whistle for my children. As I did a neighborhood child was on the sidewalk.
He asked "you're not going to whistle are you"
I replied "why yes I am. It's time for my children to come home".
He replies "you don't understand, when you whistle we ALL have to go home"!
Oh... The power of the whistle!
Just a little note to say thank you for trying to keep alive the "old ways"
It was a kinder and gentler world and I long for these young people to somehow understand! I truly am thankful to have experienced it. God help us all!!!
This made me tear up. My grandfather had “the whistle.” My 75yr old mother still summons me this way. 😊I still get the feeling of fear when I hear the whistle but I also love it.
Not only the father whistle, but the call of a mother. My siblings' name was Dawn. The neighbors, confused at the tiny crazy woman, yelling "Ding Dong" repeatedly at the top of her lungs from the porch balcony.
Dean Dawn!
Ding Dong!
Dean Dawn!
Ding Dawn!
Suppers ready!
🤣🤣🤣
A wonderful storyteller. Brings me back to my childhood.
Isn't that the craziest thing, your Dad's whistle. I can still remember it. But if I could only hear it once again.❤
The dog was told to come find me and every time the dog did its job. My friends would see the dog at dusk and know I had to go home.
Those times were indeed different, it was called discipline
My mother needed only to yell my full name....I once heard her voice softly speak my name in a dream and cold sweat awake instantly.
#trueparenting
Oh yes, my father had such a whistle. One that I used when it came time for me to be a father. A whistle that I have passed down to my son. Although now the circumstances are different. Even the penalty may be different for it truly was a different time. The power of that whistle, is undeniable.
This is Sad & unfortunately 100% true.. We were the last of the old ways..
~ i worked hard to stop saying "Retard" all the time. and after 12-15 years i 99%
succeeded... My daughter once hit teen years easilly, effortlessly brought it back..
In the times of my youth, the land was vast, and the human sound didn't carry as far as my feet could take me. Nor the two-wheeled mechanism that we called a BMX could free me from the sight of another. So my mother, yes, the strong and noble lady that my father put in charge of my well-being while he was out of town, working to supply ample resources to meet the needs of the family. My mother used a school bell that her mother's mother used to call her children in. Trained, we were to hear that sound that even now though both are gone, it plays in the back of my mind. She would ring that bell, and we knew we only had minutes to return to a place to call or show up in the yard. If we would hear it a second time without making a desperate attempt to meet our adjective, we would be grounded and told to wait till your father comes home. Ah, that sentence, "Wait till your father comes home." Even after my mother would do everything she could do to us in the days of parents' rights, those words meet. We would pray and pray we did for Dad to come home healthy and well-rested, but that is a story for another day.
your mother, the strong and noble lady that your father put in charge. I know that you wrote this to be tongue in cheek, but it is so eloquent it's actually beautiful. and I thank you for writing it The key phrases my father put in charge our world has changed so much while remember when men actually got credit for building the world and women were so proud of them children were proud of their fathers women wanted to be protected by strong and industrious man. now we have these millennials that think this is their world just because they were born into it women complaining about men having their names on everything but they don't seem to realize that these men whose names are on everything originally built everything everything that we use now men before us built it. anyway thank you
My mom was the whistler. It raised the hairs in the back of my neck. If it was a short whistle we were good. But the one that was higher pitched and longer... geez. We knew we were in trouble. Miss those days.
Ahhh yes, and don't forget the order to stay within whistling distance!
You knew exactly how far you could roam!
My father had one of those. If you heard it and didn’t respond within 10 minutes there was hell to pay. My brother and I tested the distance once. I at a mile him at a mile and a half. He was grounded for a week.
What I would give to hear it again.
My father's whistle was a forerunner of impending doom.... For if his whistle needed to be unleashed upon the world it meant a debt upon my very existence was required to be paid by me.... NEVER could I nor my siblings afford to pay such debt for that of a second whistle and I couldn't even begin to fathom what cataclysmic events would follow having to take his vehicle to come look for me 😵
LOL! My buddies dad whistled for him. If the first one was not heard the second would be louder and slower...
Oh my God. My father had an unmistakable loud whistle .worse near the water the sound carried forever. I to this day cannot duplicate that whistle. No horn, she'll, instruments needed.
I wish any of my nightmares were that mild.
Oh, man. I got the second whistle ONCE. It never happened again.
Miss those days!!! You Sir are a national treasure!!
My parents had a triangular dinner bell that was rung with with an iron stick and echoed ominously through the wild valley where we lived.
It, also, was a sound that would not be denied.
If we failed to arrive, gasping for breath, on the back porch, it would be followed by the fearsome roaring of,
"Goddamnit Shanon! Get your ass home!"
I shudder to recall it.
Oh Father's whistle. I would drop everything in a split second and ran, ran as fast as I could to be in my father's presence before the second whistle. I had forgotten about the whistle. Thank you for this nugget of time travelling ;)
I grew up on a dairy farm. If we weren't needed to unload hay, during the day, or rounding up heifers, we roamed the woods and pastures. We had the " dinner bell". It was a small bell mounted arop the attached garage of the house. If it rang, it was time for something, and you better hurry!
Thanks for the nightmare material. I got breath hard as pain and fear got sat on my chest.
when i was growing up, my brother and were relegated to playing outside as well. and we knew the whistle. hell, our friends knew our whistle. it did not matter if the street light was on or not. we would hear the whistle and whatever game we were playing suddenly stopped. our friends would say, "guess it's time for you to go home. see you tomorrow". and that was that.
😂😂😂😂 My Dad did that every time I went out squirrel hunting in the fall.
A whistle? My mother used a cow bell. I'm sure the neighbors loved it. You could hear it from so far...
I've never heard anything more real in my life!
I love it, I can SO relate!! The whistle was like an alarm going off, and demanded drastic, immediate action!
I was the whistler . My daughters knew when to come home, each with their own whistle. And a 4th whistle for all three
It was moms whistle which brought 4 gen X children running to it. Now my gen X son has a whistle identical to it which brings his children running even faster than his mom's brought them. Everyone knows dads whistle! I love the memories you conjure.
My sons know when they hear me bellow. Thanks to the army, I can project my voice for miles...and my boys know that bellowing call means get a move on. Lol
Good Sir
Father had pasted done years ago sadly
But to this day I can be were ever and hear that whistle knowing my father has pasted it is still imprinted on my soul to turn to make sure I've only heard that sweet melody a few times since his passing but I turn and look as if he were there to this day
Why you ask
Well if you've never received 3 lick from a Kleen work belt then you truly will never know why
My dad would do the Tarzan yodel. We could hear it a block away, and knew it meant to get home quickly.
😂 It was my mother that called for me to come home before the street lights came on. She didn’t have a whistle. She had a method of hollering my name that sounded in pitch and tone like she was calling for pigs. You could hear her 3 blocks away 😢😂
Lol. That was mine, too. Nevermind the street lights. When my dad whistled you better come running. And you could hear his whistle from inside my best friends house 2 blocks away.
My dad had one of those whistles. A second one meant that you would not be sitting down for a while 😂❤. Good times
ah yes, "the whistle", it can be soft when you are in a public places and he just wants to get your attention without deafening others or it can be heard across the whole country when trying to get your ass back home! I am still graced by it here and there by my dad. (or his specific way of honking the car to get my attention when he drives by and not freak out every other drivers around)
My sister had that reputation with my nephew's friends.. it was so bad that when she started yelling for the 4 boys the kids that were not playing with my nephews would go find them saying"Your momma's calling better get home before she starts going door to door".
My Dad's whistle was loud and unique. That was our call home if we weren't in by the nine o'clock town whistle.
like so many other comments ,, me= "how far can i wonder" .. dad= "as far as you can hear my whistle and be home before the second!".. ok!?!?!???? that's when i too learned to whistle back so he knew i heard him and I was coming
I can so relate, my father used to say that my ears would perk up when he whistled kind of like a dog then he would laugh!
Thank you! For the smiles and laughter ❤😂😂😂
I can feel the fear 54 here you never make them call twice. Good times
Awesome! You have nailed my childhood experience (the 70s were my youngling days). My dad's whistle was distinct and sooo loud! You sir, are a true talent. Thank you!
You are now, my favorite person on this you tube phenomenon. Brother's in childhood arms. We fended for ourselves, and our cohort.
I heard the truck door shut after a second whistle one time. But I was running so fast that I could not stop and hit the truck before he got it started. That was a terrible day indeed.
This is the way. Dad whistle has spoken.
My mother had the good old ghetto yell 🤣
Thus second whistle was a promise of disaster of the most highest penalties the BELT
the skyrim bg music really ties it together
That's so funny, my mom just had her scream "Jennifer!" I'd have wings on my feet and be front and center within seconds. We knew better...
My Dad had that whistle. He went away later in my childhood (divorce) but something you never forget.
Never a whistle from either parent. A specific, familial, nick name was yelled out. I responded with a yell of "Coming!"
If I didn't respond, they knew i was down the block at the beach & they knew which cliff to shout down.
thankyou sir you are a artist and a scholar for brightening our days and some perspective on how the world has changed not always for the best. you have helped me in ways that you can not imagine as I go through my recovery from a serious back injury ,you always manage to brighten my day during this difficult time and for that you are a saint.
I too was beckoned home via a stainless steel police whistle.
im in tears right now, thats sooooo true
It was my mums whistle we heard. It was louder then dad's. And we had 5 minutes to get there,or else. She did the two whistle. First one was the call, the second one was a warning. You could hear it for blocks
If the whistle happened after 10pm. You knew you were in trouble because your parents heard the message on the television "It's 10 o'clock, do you know where your children are?" because they just remembered they have children and they are in the outside.
I cannot whistle that loudly.
But, I did learn how to holler in the army.
My kids can hear me anywhere within a mile..... and they know it is damn well time to run home.
😂🎉 our neighborhood had Mrs Chambers. Her " time to get in the house all you yard apes!" Was the neighborhood warning to us 11 neighborhood kids that hung out. We listened to her because all the moms talked and went to church at Saint Rita's so.... 😂😂😂.. we knew.. universal mom call...
@@jeannemarie3704 Nice. I spent a good bit of time growing up in the country, so would be quite a bit aways from home doing who knows what... But, I bloody well knew I had to have my ass in the house before dark unless I had a really good reason.
It wasn’t the sound of a whistle but my own name said in full that struck horror. If mom used our full name it meant some great transgression was thought to have been committed and trial was about to commence. You’d better arrive quick to explain yourself swifter than a suspicious justice was fully delivered.
Lolol I can whistle, really loud lolol even my horse would come running lolol everyone else had to catch their horses. But not me lolol.
I can whistle my horses up as well. I have a big whistle too 😄
My dad never had a whistle, but if my mom called me by all three of my names, I knew that I was in big trouble.
Short single blast upward inflection like a whip crack
In our time, you get the stinging slap to the face. Come to think of it.. I got it even before i sleep..
You Sir are a poet 🎭
It wasn't a whistle I dreaded summoning me when I'd been outside, it was my mom hollering my first and middle name with an acquired Southern accent.
This is a poem worthy of Wordsworth or Longfellow.
Many runaways Kids was just kids to afraid to going Home after hearing THE Second whistle.
You better make sure you were close enough to hear that whistle I still turn to thus day
I enjoy listening to your tales of Yore as it brings me back so vividly to those times past that was so good in our youth. My friend you have a true gift of story telling that should be put down and recorded for future generations to know what they have missed out on when families were united as one, played together, talked to each other which has become a dying art form in todays world. God bless you for your walks down memory lane 🙏🙏🙏👊👍💪👌
Remembering the times it was not only suggested that we go outside but we were band from the house. Ah those were the days as we ran about in packs creating our own fun without causing property damage or intentionally hurting anyone. Now that’s not to say no one got hurt as the double dare would occasionally be set in motion but any maiming was unintentional and we always ran for help after convincing our nearest and dearest to climb to the top of trees or jump from them. Ah the days of summer were sweet and how well we learned the laws of gravity, motion, and Murphy’s. Darwin was right and so we survived.
Yep. I too had a whistler pop.
Better than the sound of a cracking belt
We only heard Dad's whistle at any event we scattered as soon as we got there, it meant get your ass in the car, we're leaving.
Oh boy...if they ever came out looking for me for not atending after the 2nd whistle...
Oh we had no whistle, no yell. It was inside when that light went on.
My mother would call us, 2 of us would come running, 1 well 5mins from my dad pulling the air horn of the truck . If he wasn't back in 5mins from that oh he was in trouble.
Perfect.
I feel this.
My father had a whistle like that. I heard it recently during an argument with my husband and brother because my sister in law made derogatory remark about him. They stfu. My dad made brother and sil leave. 😂😂😂
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@dadbotvet Great stuff. U should add 2 or 3 seconds at the end of video so one can have time to hit like before it moves to the next video. Many other utubers have done this. Makes it easier to hit like.
Dads 1st whistle was the indicator to get home asap 2nd whistle was get home now , dont let dad get out his old air raid whistle if so there was gona be a problem that was whistle #3
Its mothers whistle these days and yes its same rules..... only extent was my parents called cops to bring me home she wouldnt get out. Then it was a verbal onslaut and more chores then chinderella. Relentless little woman would even foam at the mouth and through things if you looked her in the eye.
😂😂😂💜💜💜💜
It wasn't the 2nd whistle from Dad. It was mom calling all of our first names/middle names (there were 9 of us kids so she yelled out 18 names total). You came running full speed or spanking would commence.
Boomer here: i would let my mother yell 10-15 times before I'd answer her. If my father yelled i was instantly running for the house, because i knew if he yelled a second time he was on his way to grab a switch from the nearest tree. If i didn't make it home before he skun the leaves off of it it was gonna be used to put stripes on my ass no matter who was watching. He didn't believe in wasting a perfectly good switch.
Being a kid in the 80's hahahaha 🤣😂🫡
That's hilarious mine wasn't a whistle. My dad would yell my name . If I didn't respond fast enough there was a second call. My full name if I heard that well let's just say it wasn't a good feeling because I knew.
OMG! I didn't know we were related! 🤪
Seriously, though, did Your dad use two fingers in his mouth? If my five brothers and I were too far away to hear the whistle - which carried for miles - you might as well run away from home, because the consequences were just too dire! 😳
I was allowed a second whistle… I knew better than to make him whistle thrice…