The summer day started normal for Karyann Parkinson.
As the mother of four tells it, she was weeks away from giving birth to her fifth child when she took a walk with her son, Sam, through their gated community in Williamsburg, Virginia. They passed by a couple ponds and crossed the street about six times, she said. Sam, 5, zoomed ahead of her and back on his bike, with the goose feathers he likes to collect from the ponds’ edges sticking out of his backpack.
In kindergarten after a relatively brief and resentful period of escort by my older brothers I began to walk to and from school myself or with friends.
There was a creek we crossed along the way but no pond.
In grade 4 we brought to school a snapping turtle big as a garbage can lid after a lunch break adventure on the Humber river.
Now kids and parents have to worry about Drag Queen groomers.
