Adventures In Bus Riding

"Get on the bus, Gus!" They even make it into the lyrics of a song, "they" being buses.
Carl sites this as one of the great disappointments of his childhood; that he never got to ride the bus to school. Why is it that kids see that big yellow bus as some "must do" rite of passage? And so hubby is left yearning for an experience that never unfolded (sigh). But not I.
I rode the school bus each day and ooooooh what memories.

It started with 1st grade. Bus number 8. Corner of Hollywood and Georgetown. Now the morning driver was nice enough, though I'm pretty sure she was a chain smoker who had long blown out her vocal cords (either that or we're talking a "drag" of a different kind). But really, she was nice enough. Opened the door and let us pass by her without too much intimidation.

But afternoons? Afternoons were a whole 'nother story al-to-ge-ther.
Enter Mr. Gestapo!
He was scare-"E", I tell you. Those were the tallest three steps I've ever had to climb and I had to do it every single day.

Mr. Gestapo had wire rimmed glasses and he peered over them with...with...I really believe it was a glass eye. Or two. And he never smiled, not ever (and if he did, I would have collapsed in fear). He just stared. you. down. as you climbed the steps to Gestapoville and, I kid you not, no one dared draw a single breath as they passed by him. Not a sound. Complete and total silence the moment you ascended the stairs of Mr. Gestapo.

We all sat and rode without words, fearing he would thrash us within inches of our lives if we made so much as a peep. And as if that wasn't enough, he chose the meanest kid on the bus to be his "bus hop", a Felton boy!
My parents can vouge for me on this one. The Feltons were like an entire sibling group of Scut Farkus's (you know, the mean, eagle eyed red head in A Christmas Story).

So okay then, Gestapo's at the wheel (scary) and his little toadie, Felton Sr., was sashaying down the aisles ready to pummel anyone who dared to defy him (as if). Yep, Carl sure missed out on a load of school bus fun. Uh huh. Whatever.

Fast forward to 7th grade and the bus ride home from St. Mary's. I was sitting in a seat when my little brother (who was in 4th grade) chose the empty seat directly in front of me. He had no sooner sat down when.....
Here. he. came.
Out of nowhere.
Augie!

Now, everyone on our bus knew there were just two heathens on board and they just so happened to be brothers. Mean, trouble making brothers named Augie and Wolfie. I am too serious. Augie was a year older than me and Wolfie was younger. And these brothers were always looking for a fight. On this particular day, the target was my poor little brother. Now let me just preface this incident by saying I was not the ever sweet and perfect sister who was adored by her siblings. Uh, NO. That wouldn't be entirely accurate. But I was fiercely loyal. Don't mess with my clan!

Okay, so Augie leaned into the seat, pulled my brother's hat off and BAMM! He slapped him upside the head.

Me: "WHOA! What do you think you're doing? He's in 4th grade, you big sissy."
Augie: "Who you callin' a sissy?"
SLAP!
Augie slapped me upside my head.
I couldn't believe it.

He then turned and whopped my brother again. Taking quick inventory of the situation, I did what any protective (and naive) older sister would do. I shoved him. HARD. He fell back onto the kid behind him. And he was NOT happy (uh oh).

"Nobody puts Augie a corner."

Okay, so he didn't say that because he was too busy snarling at me behind yellow teeth. But he did do something. He dove for me with both hands outstretched toward my neck. He was going to kill me. I was literally about to have the life strangled out of me by the evil Augie if I didn't react and FAST.

So I did. I reacted. I fell back into my seat and put up my dukes boots. And I proceeded to kick the blivens out of Augie's face. He never got a hand on me. He was too busy taking boot prints to his mean ol' mug. And then it was over. Just like that. He was MAD. Humiliated. But he was gone. And his little toadie Wolfie went with him. And no, the bus driver did not break it up. She was like 83 and I doubt she saw or heard one bit of it (no wonder she could take the daily chatter of the school bus).

Now, before you think I'm prone to violence, I'll have you know I do NOT have a rap sheet of any kind. Not even after whoopin' the tar out of Augie. And my Dad bee-lined straight for Augie's house when he heard of the incident. Augie's dad was actually reasonable (and I imagine Augie got another "whoopin" after my Dad left). And the icing on the cake was when Sister St. Luke threw him off the school bus for the remainder of the year. Ah, sweet victory (not that I reveled in it.....much).

There were other bus moments too, like when I spent the Christmas season by myself in Atlanta training for Eastern Airlines when I was just 20 years old. I took the bus system downtown to shop and asked a few older ladies where to hop off to do so. They gave me a big lecture about letting strangers know I was alone in a strange place. Came to find out after a few rounds of "Where are you from? Oh really? I familiar with that area," that I was speaking to my high school accounting teacher's mother. An amazing coincidence, seeing that I attended high school in Ohio.

And "the bus" still writes new chapters in my life today. My cat, Evy, jumps up on Carl's bench press every day to watch our Autistic neighbor boy board his school bus. I'm always thankful that it's not Mr. Gestapo who waits for this little guy with special needs. And while we don't need a school bus to get our kids to homeschool, we do see those familiar yellow buses all through our neighborhood each day and they do serve as a reminder to pray for the safety of all children, wherever their "bus" may take them.

"And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the saints" (Ephesians 6:18).