Four beeps: short, long, short, short. It was after school. And the driver of Bus F, Walter Thomas, was doing what he had done for the last 10 years: alerting Lake Forest parents that their Cherokee School kindergartners and Everett School primary students had been dropped off.
“I want to make parents aware that I’m at the stop. There could be strangers around,” Thomas said. He worried and cared about his charges. And the parents knew that.
Which was why on a recent Friday afternoon the dropoff route did not go quite as quickly or quite as smoothly as usual. After a decade as a Ryder Student Services Inc. driver, Thomas, 35, was making a career move, going to PACE, the suburban bus system. The afternoon route would be his farewell lap.
And no one who knew Thomas was going to let him drive off quietly into the sunset. Thomas tooted. Moms in cars along the bus route honked right back. Some of them gave him presents. Others, such as Lisa Copsick, focused cameras.
“You know we love you,” Copsick said.
Another stop, another cluster of parents. “We’re going to miss you, Walter,” they shouted. Thomas yelled back: “Not as much as I’m going to miss you.” A blond head bobbed up at the back of the bus. “I see you’re here,” Thomas told the boy. “I wondered what happened. I didn’t see you this morning.” Personal attention. It sends the message: I care.
Thomas also sent out another message: He respects them. The feeling is mutual. There were no discipline problems on Bus F.
“He just does not have trouble. And you know how rambunctious kids can be on a bus,” Everett Principal Charles W. Accardi said with admiration.
“What he does, is to say, `This is a terrific boy, a wonderful child. He made a little mistake,’ ” said Accardi. “He talks like it’s just a one-time slipup. He expects kids to behave. And you know what? It is just one time. I’ve never had any children on his route have a second occurrence. His kids go away smiling, happy, complimented.”
Where did Thomas acquire his philosophy? “From my mom. She’s also my alderman. We’re very much alike,” said Thomas, referring to North Chicago Council Member Bette Thomas.
“She instilled those values in us. And I’m trying to do so with my two kids,” he said.
And with his riders.
“I talk to them. I communicate with them. I learn their names. I want to identify with the kids. I feel closer if I learn their names. And they feel better. They know I care enough about them to know their names. They see that I respect them. And they respect me. I never embarrass them. I don’t talk to them about (a behavior problem) in front of their friends,” said Thomas.
But when he saw an attitude problem, whether it related to the bus or society, Thomas acted.
“We had some special education children on the bus. And some of the kids were teasing. I pulled over and turned off the engine so they could hear me. We talked. What did we talk about? About being thankful. When kids tease others, I turn that off right away,” Thomas said vehemently.
He also uses bus time to pass along safety concerns.
“I’d bring in newspaper clippings. Maybe it would be about kids who died in a fire. And I told children it is not safe to play with matches. I see this not only as a bus ride but an opportunity to utilize the ride for education.”
Part of the education on Bus F occurred just through his presence. Thomas was a black driver in a predominantly white community.
“I like to think I’m changing misconceptions, that black people are not like what some of them may have heard,” he said.
“The first day of school this young kindergarten child pointed up to me and said, `You’re black.’ I said, `Does that mean you don’t like me?’ She said no, she liked me. She was just making an observation. Children are full of innocence. And that is the way it should be. That is the way the world should be. It isn’t.”
So what did he think of the community he was leaving? “The people here are beautiful. Their children are beautiful. The community has shown me a lot of love,” he said.
The primary route completed, Thomas pulled up to the high school and apologized for running late.
The high schoolers understood. “Hi, Walter. Last day?” a boy asked. Later, as he disembarked, the teenager patted Thomas on the back. “Thank you, Walter.” Thomas replied, “Bye, good buddy.”
