Funny. When we lived in a small hamlet in the northern Catskills, Mrs.O would take our two young sons to play in the nearby cemetery. It was safe and clean.
Reminds me of a dog "LeRoy" on the U of Maine campus back in the late 1950's. He would move from dorm to dorm, cafeteria to cafeteria, frat house to frat house. No one owned him and everyone took care of him.
As a kid, a neighbor on my street still had a real ice box. In summer when they had ice delivered the ice man would chip off some pieces for us to suck on.
People with ancestry from Germany were targeted some during WW1. My great grandfather allegedly lost his job with the post office because of it. My father was the last to speak the language. It's a bit ironic that my younger grandson knows it having studied in school.