Being one of the earlier Baby Boomers, I grew up in the 50s and early 60s. In the summer, our moms would shove us out the back door right after breakfast and would not be surprised if we didn't show up until supper.
There was no molly-coddling either. If you fell out of a tree and broke your arm; no sympathy. You shouldn't have been up there, idiot.
We didn't have grief counselors either. I remember when I was in 6th grade, one of my classmates went "swimming" in a pond and drowned. The grief counseling I got from my parents was simple: "If you do stupid things you can die." That's pretty much what all the other kids heard from their parents.