at home with nana brown

Bobbie "Nana" Brown, proud wearer of many hats. Join me on this crazy journey called life.

Bus 582

on October 14, 2014

In the early 70’s, I was an elementary school student. Sometimes, I feel as though those are some of my best memories in life. To this day, I still love the smell of new Crayola crayons, Elmer’s School Paste, and the warm indigo ink from the mimeograph machine. Back then, we weren’t required to start our education in kindergarten so, I began my schooling in the first grade at Valley Elementary School in Louisville, Kentucky with Mrs. Felts as my teacher. I can’t recall much of my first grade year other than my teacher loved to use a long wooden ruler to get her pupils under control. I can only vaguely recall the sharp sting of that ruler twice; once for dozing off in the darkened classroom during a filmstrip lesson and another for taking too long to finish a finger painting. Was I the only one that really enjoyed the feel of the cool, creamy finger paints?

I recall, with very fond memories, my bus driver, Mrs. Doss. All the children loved her. I suppose she was probably in her late 30’s, at that time. I can still recall her bouffant, black hair sprayed stiff with hairspray, her genuine smile and pleasant voice. At holidays, Mrs. Doss always gave her riders a little candy treat; peppermints at Christmas and jelly beans at Easter. I would always clamber for the seat right behind our beloved driver because I simply adored our conversations. The children at our bus stop were the first group on and the last group off the bus. That never bothered me as I enjoyed the lively chatter I had with the wise and loving lady at the wheel. Many years ago, in the late 80’s, I attempted to locate Mrs. Doss. I had always know where her home was as it was close to ours and she had a huge semi-circle drive way built in the front to accommodate the old yellow bus 582. The day I went to her home, I knocked on her door with much trepidation, fearing she would not remember me. Unfortunately, no one answered the door that day. To this day, I have not ventured back to the home of the lady that meant so much to me throughout my six elementary years. I’ve never forgotten her and she will always be held near and dear to my heart. So, where ever you may be Mrs. Doss; thank you for just being you.

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