Reading wyatt burps experiance reminded me of a similar one I had at about the same age. I was raised in a country general store my mother ran durring world war two. You wouldnt belive the freedom of wandering the country as a small boy I was given. I guess by necessity with mom running the store by herself in a tame area I am sure wandering about a good mile from the store at 5 years old was a everyday non event.
My friend lived a little over a mile away on a farm. I was walking to his place and a 1936 chev coupe was driveing towards me and stopped. Two mean looking guys with beards that wasnt common back then asked me did I want a ride? I knew everyone in the country back then with mom running the only store around, but I didnt know these guys. I think it was the first time I can recall being scared or cautious. There was a farm house maybe a 100 yards up the road and I said no, I am almost home and pointed at it. To this day thinking about it I am fairly sure that saved my life or kept me from being molested. Strange. Back then and most my life I never would tell my mom or in later years, my dad about things like that when something happened. My dad was like that too.
Now, in my old age I am telling the world here.