"Children By The Mile," As It Were
After
22 years, 200,000 miles and thousands of children, Mr Tom
Wyeth has driven the school bus away from Woodlands School, in Southland,
for the last time, and retired.
One
of that legion of school bus drivers who have become a legend in their own
time, he saw romances blossom in his old bus: and when the boys and girls grew
up and married he carried their children to school too.
For
him, there were a hundred of memories to every mile as he drove along his
route for the last time, picking up the waiting children at the farm gates.
When he got to school and the children tumbled out, waiting to greet
him were four people he carried as 6 year-olds on the first day he started his
run.
They
had been there at the start and because of their affection for
"Tom," they wanted to be there at the finish.
Their children had sat in the same seats as their parents did in the
third school term of 1936. As Mr. Wyeth says, both he and his bus were new
when he started the run. The bus has never missed a day’s service and Mr
Wyeth has missed only one.
He
drove it once when he had the measles. One
Friday morning a long time ago, he did not feel well and when he got home from
his run he found he had the measles. He
wrapped himself up in a heavy coat and scarves in the afternoon and drove the
children home again. No one ever
new, and the spots were gone by Monday.
At
the outset he made three resolutions. He
would never speed, never take a drink while driving, and never swear.
He broke these rules only once - when a sheep jumped out in front of
his bus and he ran over it. He
swore.
In
the early days, to keep the children quiet, Mr Wyeth ran a competition to see
how many rabbits they could count. "The
rabbits are all gone, and now we count kids," he said.
He
remembers once letting a lad out of his bus and the boys father saying:
"Did you thank Mr Wyeth?" "No,"
said the boy, "I thanked him yesterday, and he said 'don't mention
it.'"
When
the children grew up he lost touch with many of them. As far as the girls were concerned it was the lipstick and
makeup that fooled him, he says; once their names were mentioned he knew them
again.
There
was not much that went on in the district that he did not know about.
As the bus bowled along the children used to tell him about everything
that went on in their homes, it was not like confiding to a stranger, for he
new their parents so well.
All
over New Zealand, country folk come to depend on their school bus drivers and
rural mail deliverymen; and when the time comes for one of them to retire, the
whole district feels the loss of an old and trusted friend.
That is the way it is in Woodlands district now that "Old
Tom" has finished up.
-
Jack McClenaghan
