Happy memories of School Buses and Drivers…

by admin

My most beautiful photo: Bus, plastic, wind, thistle.

Art has to move you and design does not, unless it’s a good design for a bus.

-David Hockney

I’m not sure how David Hockney meant this. But, I think the design of the yellow schoolbus is classic and timeless. It moves me everytime I see one.  Here are a few reasons why…

All the memories…of…

…the brown leather seats with those upright backs.

…the boys not keeping their hands to themselves on field trips.

John Graves and John Charles Adams playing very hard finger twisting on bus tour of Miami Beach.

…the girls all sitting together in the back, pulling out all the cool stuff we were organized enough to bring on the bus for the trip.  This began with strings for Jacob’s ladder…to Barbies and teen magazine…to makeup and saved school “notes.”

…the teacher, always a fun one with great tolerance like Mr. Nickels, sauntering back to check in that everything was reasonably under control. And not exerting his or hers before heading back to the front to hang with the driver.

…no bathroom.

…the incredible amount of time it seemed before we would get to a rest area as well as the incredible amount of time it took when we did stop.

…Indian Hills Junior High School’ers peering out of the window at our first transvestite encounter in Washington, D.C.

Miami, 12th and Ocean. Lacy and Paula front row, Jack and John safely across Ocean Drive.

Schoolbuses are good places for storage if you have a place for one in your yard.

So many people in rural America can find use for an old school bus.

They are built like an armored truck and seem to last many generations before losing their structure or color.

La Junta County Schoolbus.

They can be used to haul feed or store it.

Or, to organize stuff by category as in this picture.

Transmissions, I think...

 And last, memories of my children and the schoolbus. 

The Adams children were shepherded to and from the 28 miles from the XIT Ranch to Meade Grade School and Junior High on a school bus.

It was where they played with their neighbors after school, maybe did a little homework, heard really bad language from the other kid on the ranch, and heard tales of fun badness from Jimmy Johannsen.

Lacy laughed with her kind-of cousin, Carcy Larrabee who lived on another piece of H.G. Adams landholdings on the uplands of the river off of highway 23, 15 miles south of Meade. And Jack palled with Blake Larrabee, Carcy’s older brother, doing whatever boys do. Their grandparents were cousins and Horace Greeley Adams was their shared great-great grandfather.

They had two wonderful drivers, Mick Friesen and Betty Friesen (not related…there are about 18 Friesen’s in Meade).

They both loved and cared for my children and escorted them safely from school to my doorstep at the ranch.

They were patient at 7 am being the first pickup.

They were kind and appreciated Jack and Lacy for their kindness and appreciation.

And, on the holidays, they gave them sacks of candy and cookies.

They may have spent more time with these parents than with  their own.

And, I could not have been luckier to have these loving hands and hearts be there with them. Thank you, Mick and Betty.



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