Source: urbexiam.com
My Real Memoir
The Day We Entered the Tunnel of Doom: There are severe limits to how far you’re allowed to wander at age 7. Hence, to legendary adventurers like Rory, Jeff and me, “Don’t cross [insert name of familiar-as-a-freckle neighborhood street here]” was an annoying refrain. Still, we observed the rule (“observe” being a very malleable concept) in order to avoid that even more dreaded refrain, “Wait until your father comes home!”
But…
…our parents never said anything about how far we could travel underneath the streets. The most mysterious thing near us was The Tunnel of Doom (a segment of the massive L.A. storm drain system). But the entrance was covered by a big steel gate. So we could only shine our flashlights into it and imagine the Odyssean adventures beyond our reach.
But then, miraculously, some enterprising teenagers managed to pry up a corner of the gate–just enough for three 7-year-olds to squeeze through. And squeeze we did!
We Brought…
…flashlights, canteens, and homemade spears to defend ourselves against pet turtles that had been flushed down toilets and grown as big as Volkswagens. Being under 4′ tall, we didn’t have to bend over, but we did have to straddle the murky little creek that ebbed and flowed beneath us.
We saw very few stalactites or stalagmites, and virtually no dinosaurs. But we did see scampering rats, picked-clean bones, and various things dropped through gutter grates (“No, honey, not Daddy’s watch!”). Oh, and it was a storm drain, not a sewer, so fortunately we didn’t encounter that kind of stuff.
We Got Lost
But only really scary-lost one time. On our way back, we’d come upon a cross-tunnel, and had no idea whether to go straight, left, or right. We tried climbing a ladder, and peering out through a gutter grate, but could only see blurring car tires and cat’s feet. Terrified, we vowed to never explore The Tunnel again! And then we sat down, visions of dying in this awful sunless tube flooding our eyes with tears. We finally decided one of us would stay here, and the other two would go left and right, and then report back.
Jeff returned half an hour later, shouting, “This is the way out!” And then he and I waited what seemed like days for Rory to return. We were afraid we’d have to abandon him, and confess what happened. Then there’d be a citywide search, and we’d be sentenced to Alkaseltzer! So Jeff and I took turns going to the exit to see if the sun had gone down yet.
Rory finally came back! We made another vow–tell no one what happened–and then hurried home for dinner.
We Broke Our First Vow
But with a caveat. Since The Tunnel was low on adventures anyway (there were almost no kid-eating monsters or lands that time forgot), we’d use it as a subway! We mapped every turn, and learned it by heart. There were only a few outlets we could actually exit through, and all were miles away. Our Secret Subway opened up whole new urban vistas to us — without crossing a single street, we increased our feral territory by tenfold! The Secret Subway lasted until some nosey grown-up said, “Wait, what the—?” and a bigger, heavier gate was installed.
Decades later, I taught at La Mirada’s Biola University, located near our old Secret Subway entrance. One day, I overheard two of my students talking about their latest “urban caving” expedition in The Tunnel of Doom. A rainstorm had struck while they were inside, and they’d nearly drowned! Apparently, there are quite a few 7-year-olds out there who never grew up!
Mitch, great story! Very Stephen King-esque, had all the required elements: buncha friends skirting the rules, seeking adventure, drawing maps and wary about hidden dangers. What a wonderful time to be a kid.
Glad they didn’t install the heavier gate while you guys were deep into The Tunnel! 😨😂
Me too, Darryl!
Your mom’s heart must have been in her throat when she learned of some of your escapades!! Even if it might have been years later!
;>) I think I was in my late 30s when I told her.
I bet you didn’t read “It” at the time. LOL
;>)
A ten-year-old boy, who was a buddy of our friend’s son, drowned while playing around a storm sewer. There had been a recent torrential downpour, and he was sucked down into a drainage pipe with a damaged grate. The city replaced the grate after the incident. Tragic. So glad you survived your childhood antics! 🙂
🧡
“Sentenced to Alkaseltzer.” LOL!!!
Ours was Secor Road. It was forbidden UNLESS mom needed milk from the dairy at the end of the street and secor road. Then she would send both me and my sister because I guess two kids getting hit by cars is better than one.
;>)
I was praying no clowns showed up! Scary ones! What a delight for adventurous 7 year olds (and college aged!). I totally would’ve used it as a Subway too!! lol 😂
Love this childhood memory. Glad you didn’t go to Alkaseltzer! We escaped to the creek through a bamboo forest for our escapades. I remember my mama calling my daddy home from work once and my three brothers and I all got a whipping. We had a glorious childhood. Technology has robbed today’s children of their childhoods. Happy evening!
Underground draingers,
Did you find out where Rory disappeared for so long?
Mitch you make me not want to grow up to.
I am so glad I had all girls! 😱
Thanks for the smiles in your engaging recap of this childhood adventure, Mitch! Alkaseltzer in particular gave me a chuckle.
we used to do wild free ranging adventures like this and i’ll never forget them
Phew… there’s NO way I’d go in an open storm tunnel in SoCal. I’d expect it to contain homeless teens and meth heads!
But it was great to read about your adventure!
Goodness me 🙈 you certainly had some adventures!
I’m impressed with the problem-solving skills of three seven-year-olds, figuring out how to escape the Tunnel of Doom! Also impressed by your adventuresome spirits. I was always afraid of getting caught and being punished!
I’m curious, did girls do this with you, Mitch? That would have been way to creepy for me back then. But then, I may be more adventurous now.