Episode 18: 1979 - Memories of the 6th
grade – Riding The Worst Bus Ever
My 6th grade year would easily be
the best year I would spend at Judson. I’m not saying it was perfect (because
it wasn’t), but it was easily the best out of the three years I was there. My 7th
grade year would turn out to be a total nightmare, and as for my 8th
grade year, I was just there and wanted it to be over. However, I can honestly
say that I enjoyed my 6th grade year for the most part, and I really
thought I was going to enjoy my entire time at Judson.
Really, the worst part about school back then
wasn’t the classes I was taking or the homework given (which was A LOT
considering, and more than I’d ever had before); the worst part about going to
school that year (and the next) was riding the bus. As I’ve stated, we got
stuck with the worst bus they had at the bus barn, bus 55, which probably would
have lost a race with an old man in a wheelchair and a crawling baby. That bus
had to have been the raggiest vehicle I’ve ever been in, and it was late coming
and going every…single…day…. And I cannot count the number of times we would
sit broken down on the side of the road or highway, while other buses would
pass us by, the kids laughing at us as they passed. Why they didn’t just give
us a different bus to ride in I’ll never know. (I’ve got some ideas as to why,
however, and considering the time period I’m looking back on, I’m probably
correct in my thinking.) Then our bus was over-crowded, we had three kids in
every seat, and a lot of times kids had to stand up, due to either there being
nowhere to sit or certain kids being bullies and not letting other kids sit
down. That happened a lot back then and it was totally ridiculous and uncalled
for. I was always one of the last ones to get on the bus and not by choice as
some silly people assumed back then. I wasn’t allowed to walk somewhere closer
so I could have somewhere to sit, so a lot of times, I had to stand up or
whatever, and that usually made for a very uncomfortable trip in more ways than
one. Add the fact that for about a month or two, we had a bus driver who didn’t
give a damn about us and who’d usually be smoking while driving the bus (even
though there was a fat “No Smoking” sign right there at the front of the bus),
and you’ve got the recipe for miserable rides on Bus 55.
The first day of school had went without
incident. However, after that, it was on. Every single day there was a fight on
the bus. I’m serious- Every…single…day. And usually it was because there were a
group of kids who loved to bully other kids, calling them names, making fun of
them, and so forth and so on- to the point to where fights got started. I
didn’t know them at the time, but I had to ride with some 7th and 8th
graders who seemed to love to pick on people for whatever reason. Some of my
classmates were minor bullies themselves, but not to the extent of the older
kids. It was a shame, really. I can remember fights starting as soon as we left
Judson and continuing throughout the whole trip- the bus driver would just
laugh and keep going- and it was just totally ridiculous. I can remember certain
kids (whose names I won’t mention here) who seemed to just thrive on picking on
people and daring anyone to do anything about it. Then I can remember various
bus drivers (we had our share after they finally fired the first one we had)
putting kids off and out of the bus for fighting no matter where we were at
when the fight started. Once, some kids got put out on Eastman Road five
minutes after leaving Judson- and there was nothing out there at the time but
fields and trees. Another time we put some out at the corner of Alpine and
Eastman Road. Kids who weren’t fighting would get off the bus also, just to see
the ones who got put off fight some more, which really wasn’t all that smart
back then. Because then they couldn’t get back on and the fight was basically
over anyway….and now you’re stuck with having to walk multiple blocks home. Riding
the bus was chaotic back then, and I HATED riding the bus with a passion.
I’m not going to say that I didn’t get picked
on or I didn’t have a fight on the bus, because on both accounts, I did. The
weird thing back then was I didn’t know why I was getting picked on at times,
and that it was actually happening was new to me. I remember the fight I had on
the bus as clear as yesterday because it was with Roy Craine (and it really
wasn’t that much of a fight, because we’d always been pretty good friends), and
I was angry about something that had happened earlier that day. Long story
short, we had been in PE, and that day, the coach seemingly was in a bad mood
because we were taking our time dressing out, so he made us sit on the floor
and watch the girls’ PE class do some gymnastics. He said he wanted no talking
and if any of us talked, we’d get a paddling. Well, a fat girl jumped off the
trampoline very ungracefully and fell, and I snickered. He motioned for me to
come here, and I was the first to get paddled that day even though I tried to
tell him I hadn’t talked, just snickered. There wound up being five or six of
us getting paddled that day, but I didn’t care about that. I was angry, and I
went straight to the office and called Momma and told her what happened.
Anyway, by the time it was time to go home and we were on the bus, I still
hadn’t calmed down. And Roy wasn’t making it no better as he made fun of me
getting paddled nonstop (which was in front of everyone by the way- both the
paddling and getting made fun of). I told him to shut up and leave me alone,
but he wouldn’t, then the next thing I know, I’m pulling him over the seat and
we’re punching each other. Fortunately, Tracy (George) and Wilbert Thomas broke
us up before the bus driver could stop the bus and throw us off. But I was hot
and Roy and I were STILL talking trash to one another when I got off the bus.
My momma was waiting for me, and Carla, who got off the bus with me, told Momma what happened on the bus. It led to me having to go to Roy’s house and
apologizing (He also apologized), and we’ve continued to be friends ever since.
My momma wasn’t too upset about me getting a paddling, but she definitely didn’t
like me getting into a fight with one of my friends even more so. She talked to
the coach, who admitted he hadn’t actually seen me talk but snicker, but I
shouldn’t have made any sounds period- Coach Hendricks and I got along really
good from that day forward, and as I’ve said, Roy and I are still friends to
this day, so there was a happy ending there.
Meanwhile, on the bus, things just kept getting
more and more worse. My neighbor, the afore-mentioned Carla, was getting picked
on unmercifully by this girl who was older than the both of us. In fact, she
was an 8th grader and probably the biggest and worst bully on the
bus. She’d either have a seat all to herself, or she’d let this one boy sit
down with her almost every day. And she could fight like a man. I steered clear
of her, because I could tell she was crazy, but she was making Carla’s life
miserable on the bus. She absolutely HATED Carla, and she’d pick on her just
trying to get her to fight her. A few times Carla did fight her, and it was
sad, to say the least. Carla was not a fighter, and the girl would usually get
the best of her. Other times, Carla would just try to ignore her, but it was
difficult. One day, the girl was determined to fight Carla no matter what-
Carla ignored her but it wasn’t doing much good. Carla and I got off of the bus
right in front of my house, and the girl and some of her friends followed us.
The girl grabbed Carla right in our driveway, and fortunately, Momma was right
there at the door and she came outside. Momma asked me what was going on and
I told her that the girl was picking on Carla and trying to provoke her into a
fight. Momma talked to the girl and the girl told Momma she was going to whip
Carla’s you-know-what and no one was going to stop her. Oh Lord, I thought, because I saw the look on my momma’s face and
it was not a good look. “I don’t think so.” Momma said. “I think you best need
to be going home.” They basically had a staring contest before the girl and her
friends finally left. Momma told me later she had never seen a child with the
look of being like a wild animal or a savage, until she saw that girl, and she
was afraid of what was going to happen if the girl decided to try her. In all
honesty, I was, too, because I know my momma.
Riding the bus that year was really just a
small part of my 6th grade life, and although it was bad at times,
it actually would get even more worse my 7th grade year. When I
started the 8th grade, Mr. Thompson would be the bus driver that
year, and as Public Enemy would say, all the BS stopped. But for now, I had to
deal with that, but as far as school went, the fun was just beginning.
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