Safety Patrol

When I needed to go to elementary school, the school building was too small.  There were eight rooms.  I’d have thought that grades 1 through 8 would have fit nicely.  A couple of the rooms must have been used for music or other training.  My grade 1 class was in what was known as the band-room, in the town hall, two blocks from the school.  The town band had practiced there and the town council had used it for meetings and weekly bingo games.

Back then, a grade 8 education was considered adequate, with many students getting jobs on nearby farms, or in one of the four factories in town.  The eight-room high school was under-utilized.  My grade 2 was in the high school building, next to the elementary, with rowdy teen-age boys running us down.

In grade 3, I finally moved into the “proper” building.  A steel bar had been installed from the ceiling to half-way down the rail of the front stairway, to prevent boys from sliding down the banister.  The building is now part of the Bruce County Museum, and there is a note at the top of the stairs.  You can stand at the top and sight down a 3/4 inch deep groove in the treads, on the rail side, caused by boys dragging their feet, as they slid down.

Grade 4 was across the hall.  The first day back after the Easter vacation, we all picked up our desks, and marched across the playground to our home in a freshly finished new school building, which now included a Kindergarten.

Forward-thinking for 1954, one of the new things established, was a safety patrol.  Four or five students from both grade 7 and 8 were chosen to help safeguard the welfare of the other children.  They had to be level-headed, somewhat of a leader, and of sufficiently high academic standing.  School hours were from 9 till noon, and 1:30 to 4.  The Safety Patrols were allowed to leave fifteen minutes early to go to their assigned intersections, and were expected to stay until all students had passed on their way back to school, so they might be a bit late.

The Patrol Officers (ooh, that sounded important) were given a bright-white waist/chest belt combo, with a shiny shield clipped to it.  There were no lollipop paddles or blocking a street for children crossing.  Cars had the right-of-way.  Patrol Officers stood at various nearby corners and watched for cars.  If an oncoming auto was spotted, they were to raise their arms, and students were expected to wait till the arms were lowered, to cross safely.

As I came through grades 5 and 6, I kinda thought I might enjoy the prestige of being a Safety Patrol, but I didn’t hold my breath.   When I entered grade 7, I was not surprised when I wasn’t tapped for the job, but about the end of September, I was surprised when the Assistant Principal told me I was in.  Apparently Miss Safety Patrol couldn’t fulfill her duties and I was the first runner-up.

Not only did I get the sparkly white Sam Browne belt and shiny badge, I got a book of summonses.  I could write tickets.  If I saw things like fighting, bullying, running out into the street, throwing sticks, stones or snowballs, I could hand out a ticket.  I gave the duplicate stubs to the Asst. Principal, and the offending student had a week to report voluntarily, to get a lecture and warning.  I had to issue one to myself.  The kindergarteners and Grade ones were let out the same fifteen minutes early, to keep them from being buffeted by the older grades.

I was nearing my assigned corner and thought I’d toss a snowball at a post.  I missed the post, but hit a Grade 1 girl in the face, when she suddenly ran up and dashed around the corner.  I got my lecture, and an explanation of why not to throw snowballs.  I also had to go to her house and apologise to her and her mother.

The next year, I was assigned a more dangerous intersection on the highway.  There was a Grade 1 girl who I was supposed to escort to the corner, and assure she crossed safely.  I guess I didn’t exude enough authority.  She would not walk with me, insisting on running ahead, and crossing on her own.  The street we took was in full view of several classrooms, and I was often spotted running after her.

The Asst. Principal called me in for a talk, and I thought I might be chastised, but he just told me that he was aware of her behavior problem and had a talk with her.  From then on she held my hand and behaved well.

Child Safety Patrol Officer to adult Security Guard, that’s about the extent of my social powers.  The recognition is nice, but I’m too much of a loner and free-thinker to want to control others.  Although, if I could get one of Paul Blart’s Segways, I might want to patrol a mall.

11 thoughts on “Safety Patrol

  1. whiteladyinthehood says:

    (ya know I love these remember when posts!)
    For some reason, I really love the part about the groove in the hand rail where the boys would slide down (just seems so innocent)…and you had to apologize to the girl’s mother – very old-school – wish we could still have kids do things like that. You’ve got my curiosity up now – we have ‘hall monitors’ – they stand at the corner of the hallways at dismissal time with official clipboards and just check check away on them…I have no idea what they are checking and none of the kids pay any attention to them anyway. (I’m going to ask them to tell me what exactly their job is.)


    • Archon's Den says:

      I’ve got a couple more remember-when stories in the can, coming up in the next month or so, and possibly a couple more besides them if I can wring out the old neurons. Yes, a dose or two of the old-style respect your neighbor more than your own ego, would help our countries. Hall monitors may only be there as a damping effect through witness-testimony value, but ask. Curious minds, and mine’s as curious as they come, want to know.


  2. Daniel Digby says:

    We had safety patrols too, but their only function was to report students who ran down the hallway or skipped steps going up or down stairways. It was an awesome responsibility, but someone had to do it. I was never quite sure why.


    • Archon's Den says:

      But were you ever lured into doing it by the dark side of the force? I worked with another young guy who went down stairways in a hurry by taking three steps per landing. I floated down like Ali’s butterfly, lighly hitting each tread, and reached bottom right behind him, but on balance.


      • Daniel Digby says:

        Even if I had been tempted, it was an elected position in our elementary school and appointed in junior high, so I was in no danger of ever achieving the post. My biggest sin was jumping to the landing going down and skipping one or two steps going up. I’m sure God’s going to me pay for it.


  3. A bit later than your time, we had the prototypical hall monitor/Gestapo-in-training types. You could collect DOZENS of “slips”, though, and about the only thing that happened was the garbage cans outside the school overflowed! The high school moved up to the REAL hall-pass Gestapo, demanding your papers (hall pass) or sending you back to the class you came from. Pity these types never figured out our school was an open-center square, so if you didn’t like one monitor, you went the other way round (or changed floors) and slipped past a cool one! 😀
    Then there was the time I was “rewarded” for good grades by being made a temporary receptionist. That worked out real well, until the first call I took for the principal was from the district supervisor, and I hung up the phone and THEN hit the hold button. 😯


  4. Archon's Den says:

    I was well into high school before I realized that the (only) purpose wasn’t necessarily learning the subjects, but learning conformity and obedience. 😕 We had one subversive, iconoclast math teacher. The rest either were sheep, or had learned to fake it. And that hang-up on the district supervisor, that was competely accidental, Right? 😛


  5. benzeknees says:

    I remember the patrol belts! I’m a bit behind you in years, but they still had them when I went to school. Of course our patrols were pain in the a–es who loved to lord their power over the rest of the students.


  6. Archon's Den says:

    There are actual leaders, those who have the urge to be leaders, but don’t have the skills (and it does take skill), and some of the sheep who vaguely think they’d like to lead the pack. Then there’s people like me who just want to get on with our lives. I mentally argue with the Tears For Fears song whenever it occasionally shows up on the radio. Everybody does NOT want to rule the world. Imagine the bureaucracy involved. As retired as I am, I’m too busy to run anything but errands.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s