I know ladies shouldn’t tell there ages but sometimes we have to when telling a story. That is where I am today for walk to school day. I was born in the 60s, and my parents were born in the 30’s and 40’s. I can hear Charlie gasping for breath as I say this and reminding me this would have been when Dinosaurs roamed the face of the Earth. Youv’e probably heard this story many, many times:
“I walked to school.” “I walked to school barefoot, through eight feet of snow, uphill both ways!” At least that’s what my dad used to tell me. I wish he was here today to tell those stories again. My mom didn’t have stories like that so much, but man, oh man, my dad did. And the dad jokes? He had plenty of those, too. So when I saw that today is Walk to School Day, it got me thinking about all the different ways my kids got to school.
When Suzanne was in middle school, I didn’t feel it was safe for her to walk down Broadway, so I didn’t make her walk to school. I paid for someone to take her to school. Then, when she was in high school, she rode the bus because it picked her up right outside our home.
Charlie never really had those opportunities because he was homeschooled. But when he was in public school, the school was down at the end of the block. So he walked each and every day. And more times than not, I walked with him, or David did. Sometimes we’d leave early enough to go down and see Grandma. Other times we’d go to the park because we were close enough to do that.
Those are the things I remember. Not necessarily the big things. The little things. The walks. The conversations. The extra time together before school started. All the friends and family who would walk with us to school sometimes and even the dogs we would take with us.
And then there was me. I think I walked to school when I was in elementary school because the school was just one block over when I lived off of Roosevelt. When I lived in Watauga, I remember walking through a field that isn’t a field anymore because that city has grown so much. A group of us would walk together to elementary school, then we’d walk to junior high, and then we’d walk home.
High school was too far away for that, so I had to take the school bus. But even then, I had to walk down to the bus stop. And there were plenty of days when it was raining and cold. No, there wasn’t eight feet of snow on the ground. And no, I wasn’t walking barefoot. But let me tell you, it was cold!
Especially for my best friend Debbie. Debbie had to wear dresses to school every single day because her parents didn’t believe girls should wear pants because of their religion. That’s neither here nor there today. That was their choice. Although I do sometimes wonder if they ever regretted that decision, especially because her mom eventually started wearing pants later in life. Funny how things change as we get older.
Today, as we celebrate Walk to School Day, I’m thinking about all those walks. The ones I took. The ones my kids took. And the walks I took with my kids. Some were just getting from one place to another. Some became memories I didn’t realize I’d treasure until years later. And now, I wish I could take one more walk with my dad and listen to him tell me about that eight feet of snow.
Even though I’m pretty sure that snow got deeper every time he told the story which made it even more fun when David and I go together and his dad would tell almost the same story even though our dad’s hadn’t ever meet. What are your memories of walking to school? Did you walk with your friends? Did your parents walk with you? Did you have a long walk to the bus stop? Or did you have a dad like mine who somehow walked barefoot through eight feet of snow uphill both ways, barefoot? I’d love to hear your stories.
Thank you,
Glenda, Charlie and David Cates
