My only source of transportation to school was the Shoe Leather express. Our school was 32 blocks away. My pathway was a series of shortcuts that would wind it’s way through alleys, across parking lots and along city streets. Weather was a constant factor for which to be prepared. My Dad drove the family car to work and was usually gone by the time we left for school. On a few occasions when the weather was too adverse for travel, he would be late leaving and drop us off. I don’t recall that happening very often.
To add to the issue I was a member of the Safety Patrol and had the responsibility of getting to my post before other kids started using that crossing. Safety Patrol Boys, (girls did not yet have equal rights, or want them in this endeavor) had the responsibility of maning high traffic intersections near the schools and directing traffic for both students and automobiles. A Safety Patrol Boy wore a badge and a white canvas web sash/belt over their coat. Their job was to move to the middle of the intersection when a group of students began to accumulate on the far side of the street. The method was to hold up their hand in a stop type gesture and their motive was to make motorists stop from going through the intersections until every student had cleared the street. Today this position is handled by elderly folks called Crossing Guards.
Safety Patrol Boys had complete authority to stop vehicles or students as they saw fit. Occasionally a motorist would disobey a directive from the Safety Patrol and try to slide through the intersection. The recourse was swift and sure. The license number of the offender was turned in to the Principal and he notified the local neighborhood police. Generally a warning letter was issued, however if repeat offenses occurred, a traffic ticket was possible. Safety Patrol Boys had unique authority over student and vehicular traffic during their duty time every morning and afternoon. They were to be obeyed without question. Like everything else in post-war America, positions of rank were assigned to this corps of boys. The center of the badge worn indicated the rank. Patrolman badges had silver centers, Lieutenants were red and the Captain’s center was blue. Depending on the size of the school there were about three Lieutenants but only one Captain. The higher ranks did not have permanent street assignments but were generally floaters that filled in as vacancies popped up due to illness. The Captain’s job was to make sure every post was covered every day. For an elementary school sixth grader to achieve the rank of Captain was an honor and a lot of responsibility. I achieved that rank in the fall of my sixth grade year but abdicated the position when I found out it was constantly making me late to the Friday afternoon Sock Hops. Certain priorities win out over everything when your hormones rule the day.
My walk to school took about 45 minutes every day. It was not dangerous or laborious, it was by necessity. Unaware of it at the time, we were watched over by a cadre of caring parents, neighbors and grandparents along the way. Many times a full report of a shenanigan that I had pulled on my journey, was waiting to be discussed by my Mom, upon arriving home. Our neighborhood was connected by folks who attended our Church , the guys at the local Barber Shop, Mom’s Home Economics Club, the Firemen on duty at the Fire Station and many more community watchful eyes. These anonymous people were annoying to most eleven year olds but served their purpose in keeping us safe and out of trouble. In those days neighbors took care of neighbors and watched out for children because they considered it their civic responsibility.
