WICHITA FALLS MAN

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A Story about Driving a WFISD School Bus

I love the smell of diesel exhaust in the morning! Just over 20 years ago, I drove a Wichita Falls ISD school bus for about six months. This was one of several "retirement" jobs. These big machines with the excessive “tail swing” were fun to drive and an interesting challenge on tight turns.

In the Winter, on very cold days, they would crank up all the buses and have them warmed up for the drivers. Diesel smoke everywhere! Not healthy, but I didn’t plan to hang around the “bus barn” long. A thorough “preflight” - No Zonar in those days - and I was ready to head to my first stop. After dropping off the last student, the quiet bus was all mine for a pleasant trip back to the bus barn.

At the end of the school day, it was “Old High” and Barwise to load the bus and take them home. Sitting on the bus with my "select" load of "Old High" students, waiting for the Barwise students to come out, was a mental challenge. I heard a story of a driver who, after deciding he had had enough, pulled over, picked up the microphone, gave his location, and added, “Come get ‘em!” I won't say I didn't think of that option a few times!

While waiting at “Old High” one afternoon, a U.S. Army major (ROTC instructor) came to my bus, handed me a form, and said the issue I reported the previous day had been resolved. I was not at work that day, so another driver filled in for me. On the form was the worst example of English I had ever seen. Simple words were misspelled. I couldn’t get the words out of my mouth fast enough to let the Major know that I was in no way responsible for the abomination of a travesty he had just handed me. The idea that the Major, even for a moment, thought I was the author still haunts me.

Before the afternoon run, I would sometimes stop at the Chicken Box for a snack to be consumed at the bus barn. If time was tight, I would take the chicken with me to my first stop (Old High) and eat it on the bus. At one of our monthly safety meetings, the big boss griped about the cleanliness of the buses, citing the discovery of soft drink cans, Big Mac boxes, chicken bones, and other trash. At “chicken bones”, several drivers looked at me. It was hard not to laugh. I guess I could have accidentally dropped one or two.

You would think that an operation that relies on designated stops to be made in a designated order would be relatively smooth and trouble-free. Nothing could be further from the truth. The radio (152.360 MHz) was continually busy with “adjustments.” The trend continues to this day. That’s just my opinion. Sometimes, things are just funny. Back in my time, a driver wanted to let another driver know that he had either his yellow or red lights on when they weren't necessary. He responded with “You need to worry about your own bus!”

At another safety meeting, a driver complained about the low pay. The boss said, "You came here looking for a job. You were told what the pay was, and you said, "OK." The driver didn't respond. I've always thought that school bus drivers should make at least the same hourly rate as the "big name" delivery drivers. After all, (1) whose cargo is more valuable, and (2) how many packages drop an F-bomb on you?

After the last student was dropped off at their stop, I would stop at a convenience store parking lot at Hatton Road and the freeway to check the bus for hidden kids. I’d walk the length of the bus looking for kids and property still aboard. Then I’d get off the bus, walk to the back, open the rear door, and look under the seats. If you made it back to the bus barn with a kid, you were fired.

There are things that I think everyone should get a taste of in life. Substitute teaching, driving a school bus, and working in a prison are three such things. They are not dissimilar. Tune in to school bus operations at 152.360 MHz on your scanner radio.

Wichita Falls Man

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