The Storyline: Raising kids in your hometown a lot of fun

"We didn't see it, I guess, and we were running, and I actually fell into the hole."

"Good Lord," I say.

What else can you say when someone tells you about the time they fell into an open grave?

I'm sitting in the studio at CBC in Charlottetown, talking to a stranger on the phone. I do this every month. "Everybody's got a story," is the theory I'm working on. To prove it, every month, I open the P.E.I. phone book to a random page and stab my finger at the first name I find. 

They had a grave dug for a funeral... and I actually fell into the hole.— Heidi Clory

This week, I find Heidi Clory.

Clory grew up in Georgetown, and she still lives there. She's raising her three kids there, too.

"It's a great spot to grow up," she says. "You know everybody, which is good and bad, I guess. It's quiet. You don't have to worry about going outside and playing. You can just be a kid."

"I love that when you open the phone book, Georgetown literally covers a two-page spread, so you really can know everybody," I say.

"Yup. Exactly."

'Jumping off the wharf is a big thing'

Growing up, Clory say all the kids in town moved as one group.

"We done lots of biking and sledding. We swam at the wharf. Jumping off the wharf is a big thing. Manhunt..."

"Wait, what is manhunt?" I ask.

Don't ever stand too close to the edge if you're on the wharf in Georgetown.— Heidi Clory

Manhunt is a variant of hide-and-seek, she tells me. One person is the seeker. Everyone else hides. If the seeker finds you, you become a seeker, too.

"Like, how many kids would be playing in this game?" I ask.

"Like, 30, 40 kids."

'You weren't allowed to go home'

And the boundaries of this game? The entire town of Georgetown. You could go anywhere. You could hide anywhere. They had just one restriction.

"You weren't allowed to go home," she tells me. "People would just go home, and the game would keep going, and then we'd find them at home. So you weren't allowed to go home. And anything was open. You could be in the graveyard. You could be anywhere."

Here we go.

"I actually remember we were playing in the cemetery — like, the graveyard. And they had a grave dug for a funeral that was going to be taking place. And they had it all blocked, and we didn't see it I guess, and we were running and I actually fell into the hole."

One of several graveyards in Georgetown where kids would play and once, Heidi Clory fell into a freshly-dug grave. (Google Maps)

I repeat: Good Lord.

"Yeah, it was the most terrifying thing," she says. "It was brutal. I'm quite sure I had night terrors for a long time after that."

That's growing up in Georgetown, apparently. Sometimes, you literally fall into an open grave.

'Too close to the edge'

Clory ended up marrying a boy from her hometown, a fellow named John she didn't particularly like when they were kids. It probably had something to do with the time he threw her (and her mother!) into Georgetown Harbour.

Everyone has to go home when the street lights come on.— Heidi Clory 

"My grandparents lived just beside the wharf. We just went down to see if my brother was there. We walked down and were walking back and he just snuck up behind us and threw us both off."

"And, how did your mother take that?" I ask.

"She spit off a couple times," she says with a laugh. "Yup. Don't ever stand too close to the edge if you're on the wharf in Georgetown."

"So at what point did you say boy, that's the guy for me?"

"I really don't know. I still ask myself that every day!"

'Now we got the parents playing'

It all worked out for the best. The Clorys have three beautiful kids. I ask if her kids play manhunt.

"They do, and we actually play with them!"

The rules have changed a bit since she was little — they don't use the entire town as the boundaries anymore.

"We keep it up towards the head of the town, close to Holland College," she says. "So there's like a greenbelt that's all in behind us, which includes the graveyard." She gives a knowing laugh.

"So we still kind of go back in there and all around the little developments. But now we got the parents playing."

That's the wonderful thing about raising your kids in the same place where you grew up. Your kids don't just have the same experiences — you actually get to have them with them.

Clory and some of the other parents have worked the last few summers to clear some of the brush out of the old paths — nooks and crannies they remember as terrific spots to hide.

It's a neat full circle. And they still have the same curfew.

"Everyone has to go home when the street lights come on."

Some things don't change.

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