Prison Bus

For the first 8 years of our public school education, my siblings and I traveled every weekday morning on a bus: the typical kind that’s black-and-yellow with uncomfortable green vinyl seats and one very non-functional heater. It was on that bus that I was introduced to Ozzy Osborne. A “big kid” who ruled the super cool back seat would play “Crazy Train” over and over on his little portable stereo. It was on that bus that I was wrongfully accused of throwing a ball and had to write lines for punishment. It was on that bus that my best friend and I had some of the best times of fun together, and where we had our worst fights.

But one particular event I remember most keenly because I remember how angry I was. It all started with the changing of the guard, so to speak. The driver we had for quite a few years was Harold. He liked me because sometimes I wore my Christian Service Brigade shirt to school. He was a Brigade leader in his church. Harold was a kind man that liked to get kids riled up at him by pretending he was stupid. I remember one day it was raining like a pissing cow and he said to two drenched kids climbing aboard, “You’re not wet are you?” Man, I thought a riot was going to start at that point!

But Harold was replaced by Jones. Jones was gruff, brusque, and crusty. He had white hair shooting out of his ears and always seemed be in a bad mood. And one day he angered me deeply. By this time I’d been angered by adults many times, but this time was different. It was a brisk, chilly New Brunswick morning and we were at the third or fourth bus stop after my siblings and I got on. At that house a teenage girl was usually there waiting, but on this morning she wasn’t there. One would assume she was either not coming or was running late. I didn’t know her, but I knew that she 1) was a few years older than me, 2) liked horses, 3) owned a horse, and 4) I thought she was beautiful. Apparently Jones did too. He had a lot of pleasant conversations with her complete with smiles, laughter, and “well, isn’t that nice” comments. I didn’t know anyone who had those kinds of talks with him. He stopped the bus at the empty driveway and waited several seconds. He honked. Waited more. Honked again. Then slowwwwwwwly started to pull away, only to stop abruptly and crane his neck thinking he saw movement in the house’s picture window. This went on for quite some time before he finally—with obvious reluctance—pulled away.

That was what made me so angry. Why? Because just weeks before that morning my sister and I had missed the bus. We were usually standing at the end of our driveway when the motorized cheese log came lumbering down our rural road each morning, but not this particular morning. I swear he was a few minutes early that day, and he didn’t honk for us. In fact, he didn’t stop either. Since there were no kids waiting he kept rolling without so much as tapping the breaks. Realizing this, Jennifer and I even ran down the road waving our hands, but it was evident that  there was no looking back for Jones.

At that age, missing the bus was such a big deal. I can still feel the anxiety filling my head and chest upon the realization that it happened; the same anxiety that was written all over my sister’s face. We decided we would continue to run: one mile past our house the road came to a T. He knew he would turn right, make a stop down that road, turn the bus around, then come back heading the opposite way. We could catch him at the T if we hurried!

And we ran. If 46-year-old Troy could talk to elementary aged Troy and Jennifer, he would tell them to go home and enjoy the day off. But we were in panic mode. Still a couple hundred yards away from where we thought we could catch up, we saw the bus coming back from the east side of the T. Again, we waved our hands and yelled. Jones saw nothing. The bus flew past us just as it did past our house minutes ago. It was now for sure: we missed the bus.

So, yes, on that morning that the cute teenager was absent I was fuming. I guess I could understand, even at that age, the way a beautiful person can take your attention and make you act a little strange. But his indifference toward us in the shadow of his affection toward her was (and still is) maddening to me. Favouritism has always been a sore spot for me, and perhaps this is one of the big contributing factors in my life.

Well Jones, all these years later you’ve been written about in my blog, read by more than five people every week! Take that!

Congratulations . This is your week.

Best Actor:

Other than the great Indiana Solo, I’d definitely give this one to Tommy Lee Jones (ironic name right now…) as Samuel Gerard in

Best Actress: Kelly McGillis as Rachel Lapp in

Best Quote: “We’re all very happy that you’re going to live, John Book. We didn’t know what we would do with you if you’d died.” — Rachel Lapp (Kelly McGillis) in

What brought this bus story to mind was the fact that has a memorable prison bus crash scene. I loved that movie, as I did and . Here is my top 10 Harrison Ford movies*, outside of the and franchises:

1. Regarding Henry (1991)

2. Air Force One (1997)

3. Sabrina (1995)

4. Patriot Games (1992)

5. Frantic (1988)

6. What Lies Beneath (2000)

7. Blade Runner (1982)

8. Witness (1985)

9. Clear and Present Danger (1994)

10. The Fugitive (1993)

…and for the franchises:

Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom

(1984)

• The Force Awakens (2015)

• Return of the Jedi (1983)

• Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (1989)

• Star Wars (1977)

• Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981)

• The Empire Strikes Back (1980)

* I stuck with ones where Ford was a main character, otherwise and would definitely be on here. 🙂