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Memories of bus rides during my years in school

Standing at the end of my country driveway, Gerri the bus driver talked to me through the window. She was trying to coax me off my bicycle and onto the big yellow bus. I remember the way the breeze felt on my face. I can still hear the rustling of the wildflowers in the field; alfalfa, clover, chicory and Queen Ann’s Lace. And, I can still remember that going back to Kindergarten was the last thing I wanted to do that morning. Later that year my mom would receive a call from Gerri to tell her I had gotten into a bit of trouble because I had been cheerleading in the middle of the aisle with homemade newspaper pom-poms.

As the years progressed, the bus pick-ups started earlier. Winter was unforgiving in the pre-dawn hours. Sometimes I hid from the wind and the cold darkness behind an old grain combine that was parked halfway to the bus stop. Being the first one to be picked up on the country route meant a 5:55 a.m. date with the end of the driveway. Barely waking early enough to stumble into clothing, my freshly washed hair would sometimes freeze while waiting. One time I hopped inside of an empty garbage can just to reduce the wind chill.

While mornings like this were regular, it was often more common to sprint. Seeing the bus rolling down the hill on one side of the farm while slurping up the last of the Cheerios meant it was go-time. My brother and I could make it to the end of our long driveway just as the bus came to a stop. Maybe this is why I liked my brief stint in Track & Field in high school. I had years of practice. The first kids on the bus would hope for the best pick of seats; the most coveted being the heater seat (named as such for the heater being located underneath).

Growing up sans technology devices meant you got to know your bus-mates quite well. There was a lot of time to laugh, do homework, argue, and invent ways to occupy your time. One time I made up commercials for items in my backpack. Another time I started tapping the side of the bus wall with my foot. I tapped faster when the bus picked up speed, as if something was wrong with the bus. After a while the bus driver caught on, my cover was blown, and I had to sit in the front.

The rides home where of a different variety. A nap was often managed on the hour-plus ride home and students sometimes had to be woken up at their stop. We would be home by ourselves for a brief time before our parents arrived. In grade school, the cows frequently greeted us as we hopped off the bus. My brother and I would chase them back to the farm, with classmates yelling “Mooo!” out the bus windows. We would grab our fence fixing tools and head out to the pasture.

I was an adult before I had the realization that the reason why the cows got out so often, was most likely due to the fact that small elementary-age children were repairing the fence. But, we were proud to have “managed” the situation before our parents got home. And, few things can top the story of the day my brother’s goat followed me on the bus.

Early high school years left us with a few extra moments of irresponsible freedom. Which we frivolously spent watching Star Trek and eating ice cream. We had chores to do when we got home (a parent’s way of keeping their kids busy enough to stay out of trouble). We would wait until the last possible moment to get them done. Sometimes we would hear a car turn into the driveway, an alarm clock for productivity. We would shoot up off the living room furniture, turn the TV off in a frenzied rush, and scramble to accomplish some sort of task. The amount of work we could get done in the five minutes it took for the parent to get into the house was simply astounding. I don’t think I’ve ever hit that level of productivity since.

Now that I have kids in school it’s fun to witness their routines and notice the stark differences of my memories. I drove my kids to their first day of school this week. It was uneventful except for my son’s shoes being on the wrong feet, and my clumsiness in spilling a 64-count box of crayons. They will have a short bus ride home and there won’t be any cows greeting them at their city bus stop. Nevertheless, they are looking forward to an exciting year.

Happy first week back students and staff.

Mary Beth Stutzman’s Inspiring A-Town runs bi-weekly on Tuesdays. Follow Mary Beth on Twitter @mbstutz.

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