I didn't get my driver's license until I was nineteen gasp.
Neither of my grandparents drove - EVER. My grandfather's eyesight was too bad and my grandmother just never felt the need. Living with them in downtown-ish Fort Wayne, our choices were to walk or to take the bus.
Yes, you read that right - the bus.
I don't know when my first PTC bus ride was however, I wouldn't be surprised if it was before I was able to walk.
There are things about the PTC that I remember like it was yesterday.
* The fishbowl-type shape of the front of the bus
* The changer located to the right of the bus driver (gosh! but I loved dropping the coins in!)
* Oh! And at one time, all of the bus drivers carried one of those silver coin changers on their belt too.
* The thick, silver-like string that I lived to pull. You know - it was the thing that made a ding - signaling to the driver that you were ready to get off at the next stop.
Now, about that string you pulled - there was quite an art to how you pulled it and a science to when you pulled it.
Seriously.
You had to be really mindful of giving the bus driver enough time to stop. Some of the bus stops though were close enough together that if you didn't time it right, you may have to get off at the wrong stop.So are you wondering where we had the bus take us?
Everywhere.
To the mall (Southtown - yes - really!). To downtown. To Times Corner. To Franke Park. To McMillan Park.
When I was around eleven, I was allowed to board the bus by myself (as long as my mom or grandma knew where I was going).
I was never scared or intimidated.
People never bothered me.
I never bothered anyone.
Most of the time, I just looked out the window and took in the scenery.
It was quiet time for me.
I thought and reflected without knowing I was thinking and reflecting.
Wow! Those were the days...