Virginia about the time of this story leaning against the post, with her mother and little sister Dee.
In my second blog about those school buses, I go back in time to a not quite school bus era. My mother, also named Virginia, started to school as a six-year-old – anxious to learn to read and equally anxious not to draw any attention to herself. She caught the school wagon at the end of the lane for the one-mile ride into town in Sturgis, MS (population 207). It was her first time to branch out alone into the world beyond the safety of the family farm.
Mr. McKinnon, we will call him, used his farm wagon to transport the children mornings and afternoons. Unfortunately for Virginia, teasing was his favorite activity. As she boarded the wagon the first morning, he noted her lunch, carefully wrapped in a page from the county newspaper, and asked, “Virginia, did you bring me a lunch, too?”
“No, sir,” a red-faced Virginia said as she sought a place on the wagon bench amid guffaws from the big schoolboys.
Evidently, Mr. McKinnon and the boys enjoyed the joke as the scene was repeated daily. Virginia loved school and learned to read quickly. The only thing she dreaded was the school wagon boarding routine. Then one night her mother came up with an idea.
The next morning, Virginia’s answer to Mr. McKinnon’s question changed. “Yes, sir, Mr. McKinnon, here’s your lunch.” She handed him a newspaper wrapped bundle, identical to her own. Now, Mr. McKinnon was the one with the red face. He never asked that question again.