Waiting For The Bus

I’m going with a central theme today; every post will be a story or poem from my grade school days. Hope you enjoy them!

I spent my formative years in the little town of Buckeye, Arizona, and while attending grade school there, most of us walked, or rode our bikes, to and from school. In those days, many families owned only one car, and it was for getting dad to work and back. Driving the kids to school was something most families didn’t even consider. We lived on the north side of town in a subdivision called Valencia, which was a couple of miles from the grade school.

There was also the option of riding the school bus, which stopped, quite conveniently, right next to our house. It was a big deal to make sure you got on the bus first, so you’d get your choice of seat. Why that mattered, I surely can’t recall.

The system was to line up single file right where the bus’ door would open, and somewhere along the line, it became acceptable practice to “save” your spot in line. This was done by drawing a square in the dirt with a stick or your finger, and drawing your initials in the square. It was first-come-first-serve, but by saving your place, you didn’t have to stand there the whole time you were waiting. You could wander around, play a game of marbles, jacks, or hopscotch; or in my case, go back in the house and finish eating breakfast. Because the bus stop was right outside my door, I had a bit of an advantage over most of the other kids.

Generally, though, I’d stay out there and play, or visit, with the other neighborhood kids; it was actually a fun part of our day most of the time.

When the bus would rumble around the corner, we’d all line up in the order we’d arrived at the bus stop, standing on our square with our initial in it. There was hardly ever any arguments or problems involved with our little system. We didn’t really have a bully in the neighborhood, and for the most part we all got along pretty good.

Some pretty good times, I reckon.



  1. Sherry Mashburn said

    This is a really neat memory. I see kids waiting for the bus every morning, but they are just standing around and most of the time are not even looking at each other, let alone talking or playing.

  2. gary said

    You mean you didn’t have fun in Mrs. Mickleson’s class?

    • I remember the name, but can’t recall her. I don’t remember a lot of the teachers. Those I do are Mr. Powell, Mrs. Benbow, Mr. Penny, Mr. Clickner. That’s about it. List some of the others for me; maybe it’ll jog some good story memories.

  3. gary said

    She was also the librarian. Mr. Wissinger, Mr.Funderburk, Mr.&Mrs. Estrada, Mr. Smith, Mr. Hardin, Mr. Heard.

    • All the names are familiar, but can only bring up vague memories of them. Too bad we didn’t have yearbooks in grade school. I’d love to be able to look back and take a closer look at those days.

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