I was just reading a children's novel written in 1920 about events happening to little girls in Charleston just before the start of the Civil War. I was noticing how one little ten-year-old girl, on several occasions, went to the houses of men she didn't know, hung out with them, ate their food, told them all about stuff in her life, and then went home, safe and sound. I thought about how different that world was from today. The girl wasn't being foolish or naive, not really. She knew the strange men wouldn't hurt her, because they wouldn't. These days I can't look people in the eye or walk on the same side of the street. I can't go anywhere alone or accept anything from anyone who isn't already a close family friend.
Then it struck me. When did we stop trusting each other?
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