ILDERTON and area Villager
My First School Bus Ride or Swing Slow, Sweet Chariot! by John Caverhill It was the first day of the new school term in January 1949. I was in grade 8, so starting a new school term wasn’t novel, but this time it was different. Barely three weeks prior, on December 16th, our schoolhouse, S.S. #7 Bear Creek School, and all its contents had burned to the ground just before our annual Christmas Concert. Wasting no time, the trustees rented the former Coldstream Continuation School, no longer in use as a school because rural pupils were being bused to high school in London. Arrangements were also made to transport the pupils to school at a cost of $10 daily from January to the end of June. As a result, instead of walking down the road to school, I was waiting at the end of our laneway for my first bus ride to the school at Coldstream. I was familiar with the basic bright yellow school bus, which has changed little in appearance over the years. The high school bus had passed along the town line an hour before to get the high school pupils to London on time, so I knew the next bus would be for me. As I waited, an army truck turned onto our road. I gave it only a glance; army trucks sold as war surplus were common on many farms after the war. This one, however, pulled to a stop in front of me. Still in its wartime gray-green camouflage, it stood there, massive and solid. Its square engine hood was backed by a high driver’s cab, and a tall rectangular box filled the cargo area behind the cab. Huge knobby-tired wheels carried the whole thing. Like many army trucks built in wartime Canada, it was designed for use in British army convoys, so it had right-side steering. The driver grinned down from his open window and instructed me, “Go ‘round to the back, climb up, open the door, hop in and close the door behind you.” The first of the few modifications to make the ‘bus’ suitable for kids struck my eye when I rounded the back corner. Two heavy iron steps projected down from the floor of the box. The bottom step had been welded on so young kids could reach and clamber into the truck. A set of double doors, the left door bolted shut, gave access to the passenger compartment. The steps led to the right-side door. A heavy handle on the left door gave you something to grasp as you hauled yourself up. Inside, a wooden bench ran around the two sides and the front of the compartment. Luxury was represented by thin foam-rubber padding covered with black fabric on the bench; this offered some, but not much, comfort to young posteriors. A small window at the front provided a communication link between passengers and driver. A larger window in each door provided some light, but because of their location, no view. The truck, a ‘two tonner’, was built to carry a dozen soldiers with all their gear and the total weight would be 1 ½ tons or more. Our school had 19 kids from grade one through eight, and even when we all jumped up and landed together, the floor didn’t even quiver. So we jolted and jarred our way to and from school each day. As a crowning factor, our palace on wheels was unheated and uninsulated, so the interior temperatures matched those outside – except in June. Morning conditions weren’t too bad,
but on those hot, muggy afternoons common to June, it was heaven when the ‘bus’ reached your house and you stepped out into the open air. While it had its shortcomings as a school bus, it was reliable. With its powerful engine driving those big wheels and its high clearance, we never missed a single day because of road conditions. That winter was mostly open, but on the few heavy snow days that occurred, a three-foot drift meant nothing to that beast. We actually began to feel rather proud of its ability to cope with whatever came its way. Nonetheless, none of us was sorry when our last ride closed an eventful school year. Drive slow, sweet chariot, carrying us schoolkids to our homes… Drive slow, sweet chariot, ‘cause when you don’t, it’s hard on our tailbones!
John Caverhill is the younger son of the late Ernest Caverhill and Susie Boyd of Lobo Township. John’s writings often reflect his experiences and observations of growing up on the family farm, attending the one room school, S. S. No. 7 Lobo (Bear Creek School), and Vanneck United Church. John’s sense of humour and story-telling skills are legendary. His keen observation skills have augmented his repertoire .
‘Canadian factories produced some 850,000 vehicles in World War II, including some 50,000 armoured vehicles. Canada’s trucks are con- sidered to have “put the British Army on wheels”. Some trucks were salvaged, others repurposed for civilian and agricultural use.’ Wikipedia
– Back in the Day –
Hugh Filson had introduced Ilderton Fair parade participants and announced winning floats as they entered the fairgrounds after the parade for at least 45 years. A general farm and livestock auctioneer by profession, Filson had been born in Saskatchewan in 1925 and moved to Ilderton when he was 12 years old. He had been a long-time 4-H leader, Junior Farmers member and president of the Western and Ilderton Fairs. He passed away in 2014. (Photo by Gord Whitehead, Focus).
Page 6 Ilderton and Area Villager • September 2025
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