Sunday, August 31, 2014

COMMUNITY BUS COMPANY 1952-53

In the first and second grade I attended Catholic school in downtown Portsmouth, and lived way out in Norfolk County (Virginia). The daily commute was an hour long journey each way. Remembering details about the bus trips, fellow passengers, and customs of the day provide a few fond and interesting memories. Also, a reminder of how things have changed over the last half dozen decades.

It was the early fifties and public transit service was provided by a fleet of buses called Community Bus Company. Powered by smelly diesels, the carriers had exteriors painted in light blues and greens. Each bus had a number and it was critical to know your bus number. Catch the wrong bus and you would be horribly delayed or might get home hours late and after many transfers. School kids and some commuters used cardboard tickets which the driver punched with a hole puncher. Each perforation represented one ride, and the tickets generally had ten marks good for ten rides. Riders could also use coins which were inserted into a coin contraption at the front of the bus. If a passenger needed change, the driver wore a stainless steel coin dispenser with levers and springs which dispensed coins. At the time I dreamed of the day, as a grownup, I could own a sparkling metal coin dispenser strapped to my hip and used to smartly click out coins as needed.

Depending on the length of the ride, I remember fares ranging from ten to twenty five cents. Transfers were slips of paper which permitted someone to transfer from one bus route to another. This seemed, at the time, a complicated procedure which involved chits of paper and knowledge of bus numbers and routes. There was only one entry/exit door on the smaller buses. The standard sized buses had a front door for entering and a rear door for exiting. When activated to open or close the doors always hissed. The seats were spring loaded platforms composed of a dark plastic/leather material. They were slick comfortable cushions with long cracks. The chairs were bolted to the floor. Some seats had loosened floor bolts and were prized since they provided rocking chair motion when  shoved from behind or bounced nicely over road bumps. The windows could be lifted for fresh air, but also allowed clouds of dust, and diesel fumes to fill the passenger space. Projecting arms and legs from the windows was forbidden, but easily accomplished when the driver wasn't peering into the huge rear view mirror or when negotiating heavy traffic.

Best I can recall, the bus had no heating or air conditioning. Some drivers had small fans mounted above their heads to provide moving air. The interior featured long shiny poles for standees and metal seat frames to hold. These shiny tubes supported people standing and helped moving about as the bus jerked from stop to stop and thumped along uneven pavement. The most popular feature was the long pull cord which activated a bell or buzzer to signal the driver when it was your stop. There were few regular bus stops outside the city so when you pulled the cord the driver would gently pull over and stop. For school kids and regular riders the driver usually knew your stop however it was still necessary to pull the cord as a reminder. If you forgot to pull the chord at your stop the driver would grumble, glare, and find a safe place to pull over. The Community Company buses were not equipped with big red flashers so once off you had to be cautious. Pulling the cord for amusement always drew a stern stare and verbal warning from the driver. Most bus drivers were men, I don't remember any lady drivers. The driver knew his students, their parents, and even teachers. It wasn't unusual to have Sister Herculane or my parents remind me of my undesirable bus behavior from a few days earlier as reported by our driver.

Running about was forbidden, squealing above a whisper was another offense, hurling things was criminal,  and fighting or rolling about was never allowed. Seat hopping was a constant source of fun and giggling. The amusement was to seize the opportunity when the driver was busy watching the road or collecting a fare and at just the right moment jump to another seat with a new companion. Kids were always expected to surrender their seats to any adult even if it meant sitting in the lap of another student.  Drivers wore gray pants, white shirts with drab blue ties, a few shiny badges, dark shoes, blue jackets or coats,  and military style dress caps. The drivers were always addressed as "Mister" or "Sir". It was amazing how skillful our drivers safely steered their huge vehicles through congested streets all the while watching us closely in their large rear view mirror.

St. Paul's had no fleet of buses so we used the city bus. In addition to us, our bus carried working people, sailors, and downtown shoppers. We also picked up a few kids from Harry Hunt and other Non Catholic (public) schools along the way. Mingling with kids from other schools was rare and I think each group surveyed the other as aliens. We had our nifty uniforms, blue monogramed ties and white shirts while the Harry Hunt kids wore a delicious variety of casual clothing. It must be remembered that in those times most families had only one car or no car so using the bus was a necessity. Before malls and shopping centers the only place to shop was downtown. The shipyard was nearly downtown and many jobs were also in town. Smoking was still allowed on board so the distinct aroma of cigar, pipe and cigarettes tickled our noses. Tobacco chewing was becoming rare, but once in awhile an old man would spit a mouthful out a window. Everyone knew to shift away from the windows. Once in a while the driver quickly hopped out of his seat and roughly escorted  rowdy, cursing or drunk riders off his transport.

"Colored" people were required to sit in the rear of the bus which, at the time, we thought was the coolest place to sit. The back of the bus had long sofa sized seats which afforded group seating, full reclining possibilities, and a panoramic view of everyone else on the bus. Another attractive feature was the reality that the rear seats bounced at every potholes and dip in the street. The rumble and tumble at the back of the bus was fun. I didn't realize black people sitting in the back of the bus was not their choice but a law. Like the white and colored water fountains at city hall and the separate bathrooms at the public library my young mind didn't yet understand segregation and integration. Eventually my grandmother told me the racial rules when I was half way through the first grade. Since it was a grownup thing I didn't spend time questioning or trying to understand such things. However, my mates and I always raced to claim a back bench on the bus and gleefully dared each other to poke into the bathrooms or sip from the water fountains set aside for black people.

We had some bus delays when ice, snow, high winds, rain, and tidal flooding obscured visibility or clogged the streets. The buses were tough transporters and usually plowed through the bad weather.  Although the windows leaked and cold drafts filled the bus, our drivers soldiered on from stop to stop. On the occasion of a breakdown the driver calmly announced the situation and walked to the nearest public telephone to summon a mechanic or replacement bus. We were commanded to stay in our seats, but naturally forgot that order once the driver was a few paces from the bus.

Home was nearly at the end of the line well into the country. Mine was one of the last stops before the bus began picking up riders on its return downtown. The long commute afforded plenty of time to exchange gossip and perform pranks. The long daily rides were part of our growing up time.  It was where we became best friends, girlfriends, boyfriends, rivals, and enemies forever or at least for the day or week. I cannot recall the exact path the bus followed or all the specific stops, but I fondly remember a few crossroads and neighborhoods. After exiting High Street, we crossed near Westhaven, Oregon Acres along Portsmouth Boulevard and skirted Airline Boulevard along the way. Our daily commute took us near Academy Park, Alexander's Corner, Rollingwood, Century Homes, Simonsdale, Hodges Manor, Park Manor, Hodges Ferry, and then into the country which was Sunray, Jolliff Road, Bowers Hill. By way of the extended roadways of Portsmouth and Airline Boulevard we moved deep into Norfolk County where there were no sidewalks or subdivision names.

After the second grade, Little Flower (St. Therese) School opened in Oregon Acres and our daily bus ride was cut in half. Many of the same kids from St. Paul's were still my bus buddies. With my sister Catherine just starting school, the morning and afternoon rides were shorter but just as exciting as the downtown journeys from 1952 and 1953. As we got older our pranks and conversations got a little louder and bolder, but I think we remained a bunch of good kids.

From those Community Bus days I still recall drivers Mr. McKay (RIP) and Mr. Shotsenberger (RIP). I fondly remember the great kids who were my daily commuter pals; Tommy Bunting (RIP), Patty, Marshall Connely (RIP), Sandy, Mandy, Judith, Francis, Marvin, Mike Rooks (RIP), Margaret, Millard, Johnny, Zita, Keith, Jimmy, Chuck, Thomas Parsons (RIP), Diane, Eugene, Janice,  Francine, Sharon, Jerry, John, Joyce, Paul, Tom, Wayne Smith (RIP), and so many more.



                 




   

Saturday, August 30, 2014

MOST SERENE & FEARLESS LEADER

Obama wins hands down as the ultimate liberal twit of American politics in the first quarter of the twenty first century.

With few qualifications, stirring empty oratory, and an attractive smiling family, he was swept into the most important elected office in the world. His election victory was guaranteed by a huge block of liberal Caucasians still guilty about slavery and giddy about his good looks. Democrats and many republicans hoped his ascension would forever smooth the troubled waters of race relations in America. The European Federation of especially silly liberals even gave Obama an undeserved Noble Peace Prize for doing nothing.

With Democrats in both houses of Congress, the adoration of practically all media empires, money and mindless kudos from nearly 100% of Hollywood play actors, a huge block of college professors, and self proclaimed "intellectuals", he began his administration. His mantra was to promise anything and everything to everyone. After six years, it is crystal clear he was, and is, a fraudulent leader. We all got screwed by his lies.

The crowning jewel of his liberal domestic fantasies was Obamacare. This scheme resulted in less health care, increased health care costs, and exploded the number of bureaucratic flowcharts designed by civil service demons. His heavy handed manipulation of business and industry has failed to improve our economy. Tax funded bailouts of GM and other businesses, insistence on maintaining the highest corporate tax rates in the world, and his refusal to allow our energy independence have all contributed to our sluggish economic growth.

The scandals and failures, in his reign, within the FBI, Veterans Administration, Internal Revenue Service, State Department, OSHA, Labor Department, EPA, EEOC, Justice Department, Department of Education, and a slew of other agencies combine executive level incompetence with unending attempts to make the liberal agenda the law of the land. That liberal agenda simply stated is that big government has all the solutions. With an endless stream of taxpayer money your wildest dreams of domestic tranquility and free things from the government are realized. Anyone questioning this progressive plan is quickly labeled a racist, and an enemy of the people, especially innocent children and old folks. Unlike other historic liberals, Obama has been the champion liberal of the decade because he is so self assured of his rightness. He cannot accept constructive criticism or compromises even from fellow democrats. He has sacrificed the nation's economic well being to fulfill his own dreams which are anti capitalist and socialist. Also, a big part of his motivation has been to satisfy a tiny group of mega contributors and far left supporters.

The diplomatic failures of Obama are probably the worst of any past US President. From the start, he proceeded on the mistaken premise that his winning smile and kind words could solve world problems and melt the hearts of the worst dictators. His childlike approach coupled with soft words and body language convinced most real world leaders he was a weakling. At every turn, he has gone out of his way to downplay and even deny "American Exceptionalism".  He has rarely represented our role as the only real economic and military superpower on the face of the earth. At critical moments he has elected to wait until events forced him to act or simply retreated to another vacation spot or golf match until the news cycle moved to a new crisis de jour. Without exception, he has neglected Israel in favor of their murderous neighbors. In Syria, Libya, Egypt, Russia, North Korea, Somalia, Iraq, Iran, Mexico, China, Algeria, Pakistan, and most other foreign nations when American lives or economic interests have been at stake he has failed to act. He has not been able to save a reporter from beheading, get an ex Marine freed from a Mexican jail or prevent the slaughter of our Libyan Ambassador. However, he can quickly insure all his federal resources descend on Florida and Missouri when a black kid gets killed by a non black.

Stumbling through the last few years of this presidential nightmare may not destroy our republic, but it's sure been a bad trip. Obama cannot be impeached because of his race, but a handful of his supporters are beginning to realize the shallowness of his leadership and character. If Katrina was our worst ever hurricane than Obama might  be our worst ever Chief Executive. It will take a long time to heal the economic, social, and international wounds he has caused. With God's help and better national leaders the American brand may someday get back it's luster and respect.

The lesson we should learn from suffering the rule of Obama is that a pretty face, skinny resume, fluffy speeches, oodles of campaign money, and an extreme political philosophy do not make a great leader. In 2014 and 2016 we need to carefully read the resumes of the candidates and throw out anyone preaching from an extreme corner of any political party.



 

Monday, August 18, 2014

MY SAM CHAIR

Years ago my boss Sam (Sandler) changed his office furniture and before it was dumpsterized I asked for his old chair. It has been my office chair ever since and it reminds me of Sam.

Sam inherited a thriving food distribution business from his father and with a few relatives and loyal employees built a tremendous enterprise. Sam was a brilliant businessman, but also a philanthropist,  avid Boy Scout supporter, and generous member of his synagogue. With his family he built a company that was named the nation's Best Food Distribution Company during the 1980's. Eventually, his company was sold into other companies and faded after nearly 80 years of existence.

I love my Sam chair as I admire the great man who once used it to manage his financial empire. It is a heavy wooden chair of highly polished wood. No pads, softness, wheels, or adjustment dials on this solid piece of furniture. The straight-backed chair has a stamped date underneath of April 11, 1955 and may have been his father Max's chair. Despite it's age it shows no sign of weakness and will surely last many more decades. It is an honest straight forward bench once used by an honest straight forward man who possessed great gifts of business acumen, common sense, and kindness.

My Sam Chair is a prized possession because it is a reminder of a great Hampton Roads (Virginia) man who built a large business and provided thousands of people careers over the life of his company.


 

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

THE MASTER RACE BAITERS

So hundreds of young black people are maimed and murdered week after week in places like Chicago and not a peep from the nations master race baiters. Their fury is only unleashed on the rare occasion when a white on black incident, which may or may not indicate racial bias, occurs.

So why does all the clumsy power of the federal government suddenly roll into Ferguson Mo. with headline mongering news network talking heads, when a white cop shoots a black teenager ?  Surely as sad a story as an Hispanic wannabe vigilante shooting a wannabe black teenage gangsta in Florida a few years ago ?  Tragically, before the facts are gathered the mobs lead by the master race baiters decide guilt sans evidence and a proper jury trial. Where is all the angst and attention from the master race baiters as black on black killings occur every night in Chicago, Baltimore, New Orleans, Los Angeles, Detroit, Charlotte, Philadelphia, New York City, Washington DC, and hundreds of other US cities ?  In my opinion, the master race baiters are providing theater for poorly informed and frustrated people. There is a growing population of people who lack education, parents, and much hope. This group is consistently played as fools by hypocritical black leaders who seek headlines and paychecks.

The master race baiters of America want no lasting solution because solutions would end their source of income and lurid headlines. Looting and rioting are as much a solution to alleged police brutality as Obama getting a pre-mature and unearned Noble Peace prize. Picking and choosing isolated cases of violence involving whites and blacks is the way Sharpton & Jackson make money, and it is the way Obama and Holder deflect more serious attention from their massive failures within predominately black urban areas. Obama was once touted as the great and powerful Oz of "community organizing". With all the power of the presidential bully pulpit, Obama and his mayor pal Emanuel cannot even reduce the murders in their adopted hometown of Chicago.

Is it not time the master race baiters be exposed for the shallowness of their actions and motivations ? Do we not need all the facts before we demonize the police or a killed citizen ?  All Americans deserve better leaders than some of the bozos currently driving our national bus and selectively choosing which terrible incidents will further their political agenda or fatten their wallets !

As a nation we have forgiven the atrocities, mayhem and misery caused by our British overlords centuries ago and we have healed the hate caused by the war horrors received from Japan and Germany. When will those who claim national black leadership surrender their resentment over the sin of slavery and move on to implant hope and understanding within their communities and surrender their constant anger ?