I was suspended one month before retirement, just because some parent spotted me at a motorcycle rally. Forty-two years I’d driven that yellow bus. Never had an accident. Never been late.
Knew every child’s name, which ones needed a little extra encouragement in the morning, which ones needed a quiet word when their parents were fighting. For four decades, I was the first smile those kids saw after leaving home and the last goodbye before they returned.
Continue reading…