How did you get to school as a child?

Parents often tell tales about how far they had to walk to school. Our farm was in the middle of a country road called Pye Lane. It was a couple of miles long. So we actually did walk a mile to the bus stop. No matter the weather, you just wore the proper attire and got yourself there. I never remember getting a ride, I do remember being prodded and reminded not to dilly-dally.

In my early years I walked with my sisters and the only neighbor boy. I loved being in their company. My sister Sara sat with me on the bus, while Nancy(the oldest) sat with her friends. They both watched out for me in their own ways. In Kindergarten we had a half day, so my Mom or Nana would be waiting at the bus stop to walk me home. I enjoyed that walk, as well. It was probably one of the only times alone that I had with either one of them.

The only trepidation about walking to the bus stop was walking by the Lasher house. There was large family that lived there at that time, but we believed it to be haunted. It had been vacant for many years before they moved into the house. Stories were plentiful about occurrences that supposedly happened with the previous owners. It was right at the end of the road near the bus stop, so there was no choice but to pass by. On the other end of Pye Lane was a house that had been abandoned years before. Whoever had lived there left spontaneously, without taking a thing with them. We made up a lot of stories about this place, too. In the afternoons coming home we had the option of getting off the bus in front of this house. All of these stories fed our imagination and as much as we were scared, we also loved feeling brave and being scared together.

As I got older and my sisters moved onto a different school, it was my turn to walk alone. While in the morning I would walk as fast as I could to make the bus, the afternoons were mine for dilly-dallying. I would take my time, feeling my brief bit of independence. Sometimes I would take a detour and walk along the creek that eventually led to our backyard. Depending on the season, I might walk on the frozen creek or in late spring take my shoes off and wade in the water.

As time went on and part of our farm was sold to a housing development, there were friends to walk home with. This was the time we would share our school day, work out our friendships and makes plans for after school. All we had to do was check in when we got home and then be home in time for dinner. We were very independent, with no one that really knew exactly what we were doing.

Looking back, I see what a rich time this was of slowly beginning to forge your way in the world. It was a long enough walk to get a glimpse of time to one’s self. A brief moment of having your own thoughts and imagining other ways to be before entering the place you called home.