Jobs I've Had : Jobs I've Had - Part One by damommy |
I never had a full-time job until my youngest was a high school sophomore. I did a lot of part-time jobs, mainly for fun. The first one I had was driving a school bus. I was supposed to fill in for six weeks when a friend had broken her arm. I went on to drive for fifteen years, and also substitute in classrooms. That first year, my youngest was still a baby, so I hung a papoose seat on the driver’s seat, and he rode in that. As soon as the motor started, he promptly fell asleep. Well, except for the few times he would hold onto my long hair as I drove down the road saying “let go of Mother’s hair” several times. I enjoyed driving the bus, and I always had good discipline. Everyone got a seat and sat down. No hanging out the windows, walking around, or screaming. When I moved to another town, they’d never had a woman school bus driver, so I was an oddity to them. That first time, everyone was standing up, yelling, and walking around. Also, the bus was very overloaded. I turned off the motor and told the principal I couldn’t move the bus while it was overloaded. He was quite surprised by that, saying they’d always done it that way. I was to hear that phrase many times for a while. I told him if something were to happen it would come back on me, not the school. They were a little put out with me, but they got another bus to take the overload. A bus should have only seventy-two passengers, and there was at least ninety on this one. The students were surprised they had to sit down and not hang out the windows. Pretty soon, I’d hear whispers of “get a seat - she makes you sit down.” They liked me after a while, and we had some really good field trips. On my first field trip in that town, they gave me what they called the misfits. They were all boys. They asked me questions like was I afraid of the big kids like them. I weighed only ninety-eight pounds at the time and stood five feet tall. I told them how embarrassing it would be for anyone their size to beat up on a woman my size. They were a very gentlemanly group, and I couldn’t understand why the teachers had said they wouldn’t get within a mile of that bus. In fifteen years, I only reported two incidents. One was a 6’2” senior boy who was kicking band cases, and when I told him to stop, he stood up and took off his belt. It had one of those big, wide buckles, and I could almost feel it hitting me. I had to look up at him, but I told him if he hit me, he’d better give his heart to God because his butt was mine. No one was more surprised than I was when he sat down. His punishment was to sit behind me for three days. How inhumane. (He was a teacher’s son.) In another story, I’ll tell you about the second time. There were some scary times, too. It was back in the day when buses had standard transmissions. I loved it. There was a rhythm of shifting gears, turning on the lights, opening the door, etc. One trip we took to another town was on a winding downhill road with a sheer drop off to our left. The brakes went out on the bus, and all I could do was pull the gears down in “granny” gear. We made it to our destination and got them fixed there. One year, we had tornadoes flying over us everywhere. I had to get them home safely, but halfway through the route, the bus broke down. Luckily, my sons knew where I would be and came to find me. They drove back to town and got us help, and everyone got home in one piece. Occasionally, they would pull little tricks on me, like the time we went to an ice cream parlor on one of our field trips. Someone told the staff it was my birthday. It wasn’t. The next thing I know, here comes the staff banging on a bass drum and clanging cymbals, singing Happy Birthday. For years after that, when I saw any of those students, they’d say, “Remember that time we told them it was your birthday?” They thought it was hilarious! I was always lead bus in any convoy we might have. One year, our high school band went to the regional contests and won first place. As we approached our town, a police car was waiting on us. My heart was in my throat because I thought something had happened to my sons. Turned out, we got a police escort into town in celebration of our win! Sometimes, one would ask if they could call me by my Christian name. I’d tell them when you’re as tall as I am, then you may. That didn’t last long. Some of the twelve year olds were taller than me, so I had to resort to telling them when they were married with children, then they could call me by my Christian name. Parents were the biggest problem. Everyone thought their precious could do no wrong. One day, a father came to school when the students were getting on the bus to go home. He said his son was being bullied, and he would straighten everyone out. I had to tell him it was his precious who was the troublemaker. Also, he could not step on my bus without my permission. As I told him it would cost him $10,000 fine and a year in jail because it was considered piracy, a teacher was headed for the phone to call the sheriff. He quickly changed his mind. Everything was good. Teachers were the second problem. On one trip, the teacher had the kids coming up one by one to give her lunch orders. I pulled over on the shoulder and stopped. When she asked why, I said I can’t move the bus with people walking around, but I would sit here until she had all the orders. She wasn’t happy about that, but, hey, as I said, any accident would be considered my fault. I had an excellent driving record, and I didn’t want to ruin it. Most important, I didn’t want anyone hurt on my watch. I almost quit one year after reading about a school bus being hit by a train, but my supervisor talked me out of it. He asked if anyone would try harder, or be safer than I would be. Of course not. However, that first field trip after that, I shook for a long time down the road. I got over it before long. Oh, I could tell you many more stories, but I won’t bore you with any more right now. They were good times. Thanks for reading. By the way, I could parallel park my school bus.
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