One Child Left Behind
In the springtime of 1970, I was an 8th grade student at Paint Lick Elementary in Garrard County, Kentucky. Our 8th grade class was given an opportunity to travel to Frankfort to see our state’s capital. We children were all very excited to go on this big adventure. We would leave on a Friday morning and be gone all day. The thoughts of a trip, with an upcoming weekend when we returned, made us all happy indeed.
Before I tell the rest of my story, I want to take just a moment and salute all the fine teachers I have known throughout my life. I know, undoubtedly, they work hard and are very often unappreciated. I offer to them my utmost respect and gratitude for the work they put in with our children and grandchildren.
You may or may not know this, but Paint Lick is a long way from Frankfort. Today, according to MapQuest, it is a trip of 68 miles, and takes an hour and 31minutes. In 1970, it was a much longer trip. Highway 52 from Paint Lick to Lancaster, and then on from Lancaster to Danville was quite possibly the curviest road in the state. After you got to Danville, the road was much better. The road from Paint Lick to Lancaster has now been straightened, but the hills and curves from Lancaster on to Danville remain. I can only guess, but I know it had to take us at least two hours each way to travel these curvy roads on a school bus.
After we loaded up early Friday morning, we set off on our journey. I think at least two or three kids got sick along the curvy way and threw up on the bus. It may just be me, but it seems as if that always puts a damper on a trip, regardless of the fun that lies ahead. I don’t remember who the teachers were who traveled with us, but I know they earned their money that Spring day.
After arriving at Frankfort, we all couldn’t wait to get off the vomit smelling school bus and get some fresh air. We toured the capitol and the grounds around it. We had splendid weather, and everything was just wonderful. I am sure we had lunch there somewhere, but soon, it was time to head back home.
We loaded up again. The bus smelled better now, and we were all excited to get back to school and head home for the weekend. The road was straight and good until we got back to Danville, where, again, the curvy road reared its ugly head. It wasn’t long before we could again hear the all too familiar sounds of someone throwing up. Thankfully, they weren’t near me, or I probably would have joined them.
After we got on the curvy road, and because it was springtime, we got behind every type of tractor and farm implement known to man. Here we all are, anxious to get back to school, dying from the funky smell that permeated the school bus, while following one slow-moving farmer after another. Occasionally, our bus driver, probably nearly overcome from the stench coming from the back of the bus, would pass a tractor on the double yellow line, in a curve, with a vehicle coming toward us in the lane we now occupied. It was really risky, but those of us who hadn’t thrown up yet, cheered him on.
We finally rolled into the parking lot just a few minutes before school let out. Our principal came out to greet us. He looked somewhat agitated, but we thought it was because it had taken us so long to get back to the school. We were all just so relieved to be back, and to get off the smelly bus.
As the principal rushed toward us, he exclaimed to the teachers, as well as the bus driver, “You’ve forgot one!” They replied, “What?” He said, “You’ve left a student in Frankfort!” “They just called me a few minutes ago and told me we had left a little girl behind.”
I have been to a lot of sad funerals in my day, but this announcement may have been the saddest sight I have ever witnessed. Both of the teachers, as well as the bus driver, nearly wept. They all dropped their heads, not worried quite so much about the little girl, but the realization that one of them would have to return to Frankfort to pick her up, and then take her home. One of the teachers was chosen to go back. He, trying not to cuss, reluctantly got into his pickup, and headed out of the parking lot. As he neared the highway, he had to stop and wait for a tractor to pass as it made its way up the curvy road toward Lancaster. The teacher burned rubber as he pulled onto the highway, and then braked hard while falling in line behind the tractor.
