I grew up in Baltimore and called out.
When I go to someone’s house now I yell out ‘hui hui anyone home’ without going up to the door.
I didn’t and none of my friends did. Most of us would knock on the door and ask, “Can you play?”
My little sister had friends across the street who would shout for her, though. But it wasn’t outside our house. They’d stay on their own porch and just holler across the street if one of us came outside to ask if she could come over. We all thought they were really obnoxious.
I came upon this post because I was researching if my childhood experience of calling out a friend’s name to come out and play, was unique. I absolutely did this in the same “sing-songy” manner of which you describe. I’m sure I was quite young, but don’t remember how young… probably less than 8 years old. I lived in Saginaw MI. It’s funny…at the time it seemed so normal. Looking back now, it seems so bizarre.
I never did this. I would call before I went over, to make sure they could play.
We did this all the time, but never called it “calling out” or anything else. I don’t remember ever calling a friend on the phone until I was maybe 15. And it wasn’t unusual for parents to call their kids home the same way.
My nearest friend probably lived a half hour walk away.
So, no.
Sometimes. Usually I knocked, but if nobody came to the door and I was pretty sure he was home, I’d yell up at the windows. My best friend lived around the block from me, and sometimes his mom or sister would yell for him across the gas station and several houses that lay between our backyards rather than call on the phone (we weren’t indoors anyway) or sending someone over in person (the next level up).
This was in Queens in NYC in the late 1970s or early 1980s.
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Sure, in the summer everyone had their windows open. I’d go around to the side of the house nearest my friend’s room. Call out and ask if he could could come outside. I recall using a sing-song voice. We organized a lot of pick up basketball games that way.
Now everybody is barricaded in their house with AC. have to use the doorbell. 
Not really. As I recall, everybody was already out. We were called in…by our mothers. There were three other people on my block called by the same name I was, but we usually knew which mom was calling us in, and in any case once one mom called, the rest of them would soon follow.
At night we sneaked out and were very, very quiet.
One of my early teen friends’ parents got irritated by kids knocking to see if my friend could come out. They would have been even more irritated by yelling. Also, if he just said he was going out to play they just let it happen, but if I came to the door and asked, it often become something of a formal decision making process with consideration of whether he had done his homework and had he been a good boy, yada yada.
So we developed a system. If I happed to bounce a ball on the street outside his house, he’d hear and come out.
God no. We knocked on each other’s doors because none of us were born in a freaking barn.
7-year-old Barking Dog:
*
“Pardon me, is Master Skippy available for recreation this morn?”*
mmm
I grew up before children were under house arrest with nothing but a texting device, so all of the above were in the repertoire of the imaginative and resourceful, to be used as appropriate. Including the “call-out”. I was ten years older than Beaver Cleaver. Still am.
One variation that I became femiliar with seems to be centered in the New Orleans sphere of influence, were the callout would be two or more syllables, accented on the last syllable, falling at the end. Seems to have been also used in southeast Texas.
In my neighborhood in the 60s kids called out.
The protocol required that you put an “Oh” before the name.
So a typical call would be, “Ohhhhhh Billeeeeee”
I’m female, and only boys did this. 1960s south side Chicago. My brother’s friends would yell “yo, Bri-AAAHHN or yo, BeeeeJAYYY.” Us girls would go over to each other’s house and knock on the back door. Never the front. And we said “I’ll call for you” never “call you out”
This. Northern California, ca. 1970.
Yes, yes, and “swipe” meant “steal,” too, which is why I find modern debit terminals hilarious. 
It was customary in my neighborhood to ring the bell from whatever room one was occupying in order to summon the butler. After berating him for taking so damn long to get there, he and the driver would be dispatched to the friend’s (let’s call him James) palatial estate. Upon arrival they would ring the intercom and ask if “Master James” was available to meet with me for the purpose of recreation. If so, they would fetch Jimmy from his room and, with the aide of Jimmy’s butler and driver, bear him on a litter to the Rolls Royce and drive him to my family estate. The process would basically be reversed when Jimmy desired to return home (or I kicked the nouveau riche bastard’s ass out). If Jimmy were not available for whatever reason, the driver and butler would park the Rolls back at the estate and leave without coming inside, for they had failed in their mission and could no longer remain in our employ.
I would be quite surprised if this wasn’t a common experience.
Nope, we’d either go over and knock/ring the bell, or else call before hand, depending on what was going on.
This was our neighborhood way of life as well. Literally calling kids to come outside and play. And at 5:30 every evening, Mr. H (who was everyone’s Debate & Speech teacher in 9th grade) shouted out for “Michael… Dinner” which signaled everyone to head home for supper and meet back in 45 minutes.
Michael and Mr. H still get some neighborhood ribbing for it on Facebook 30 years later. But it is such a strong and seemingly recent memory.
I was just telling a younger colleague that kids never knocked on doors or rang doorbells. We would stand under friend’s window and call out their name long and drawn out. Sometimes if their name was short like Tom or Jill, we would add Hiho in front of their name. My younger brother would have a lot of friends and they all would call out Hiiiiho Jooohn!