We caught the bus at around 7:00 A.M. out at the entrance gate to the island road, a walk of about a mile from our house on the south shore. Then it was an hour-long ride to pick up both Gilford Grade School students and Laconia High School students. There was no Gilford high school.
Our big yellow bus was made by the White Motor Company and there
was a large chrome sign saying "WHITE" mounted on each side of
the engine hood. It always amused me because though the sign
said white ... that bus was very clearly a bright yellow color.
The bus was operated by the Laconia Streetcar Company, as I
recall, and the streetcars were long gone.
Our regular driver was a kind grandfatherly gentleman named Mr. Haines. He was a delightful person who really liked children and was almost universally liked and respected by them too. He was kind, considerate and always willing to listen to whatever his passengers had to say. He often acted as confidante too, for he was empathetic and understanding of the problems of his charges whether they were frightened first graders or confused adolescents in high school. Mr. Haines was a real friend. Oh, he was strict when necessary and kept the chaos of boisterous school kids to a minimum. Seldom did he have any real trouble that a stern look couldn't quell.
Our bus stop at the Governor's Island gate was the first one on our route ... and the last one in the late afternoons. We'd not get back to the bus stop before 4:00 P.M.. It was quite dark in the winter months when we'd meet the bus in the mornings and again before we got home again. But the day was even longer for Mr. Haines. He would have to leave the Laconia bus barn shortly after six o'clock and not get back until after five in the afternoons.
There were typically three to five of us who got on at that first stop, Ginny Grider, my younger brother and me. Later on a girl whose last name was Fry came too.
About a half mile down the road was the next stop. There at the Lake Shore Inn we'd pick up the Prohlman kids (two I seem to recall). They were really nice and we got along fine. Unfortunately, their friendship was not always reciprocated by others because there was much anti-Semitism there at that time. Too bad, 'cause they were nice kids and really smart.
About a mile or so farther on we came to the corner near the King's Grant Inn and the larger Winnipesaukee Farms tourist attractions. Billy Vose and his sister Polly got on there, as did Shirley Terrill (I loved her flaming red hair). In WWII they built a new road from that intersection towards Laconia and the airport at Lily Pond.
The bus would continue east down the hill towards Saunders Beach. At the bottom of the hill we'd pick up Harriet Forkey. Her father was the Correct Craft boat dealer. They came after WWII.
Just beyond was the intersection known as Intervale. If you turned left you went to Glendale and along the lake shore. A right turn would head you towards Lily Pond. It was at this corner that we'd pick up the kids from the Harris farm. I remember that it was there one summer that I found and adopted a double-pawed kitten and brought it home inside my shirt. That ordinary barn cat was my special pet.
Also at that intersection the Sawyers established a popular ice cream place (called a "dairy bar") on one corner of their large field. The Sawyers kids got on the bus at a stop just a short ways from the intersection.
Then we'd climb up a slight hill to the stop where Danny Watson and one or two others would get on. Tragically Danny was killed while we were in high school ... and on a road that passed by the Sawyer's place too.
There were three or four more who got on the bus at the Lily Pond area stop. That's where the old one-room Lily Pond School was. Had I gotten to the area just a year or two sooner that would have been my school. But now we were headed for the four-room Gilford Grade School, a brand new structure in the village.
Just short of reaching the road that followed the shore of Paugus Bay (Highway #3 I think) we'd stop to pick up Harry Davis and his sister. We'd then continue on towards Lakeport.
At the edge of Lakeport we'd stop to get Sheldon Dow and Margaret Brown. That was later during my high school years. I remember Margaret because she was our school " brain " ... a very intelligent girl who had the problems of being an albino. Her eyesight was very poor and she was so fair that sunshine was a hazard to her. But she was a delightful and very popular person liked by all.
That would be our last pickup stop before reaching Laconia High School. The bigger kids would get off there on Union Avenue, but the grade schoolers had to continue on to Gilford village. We'd drive up Gilford Avenue and soon cross the Laconia city limits. Then we'd stop for the York boys, John and Charles. John was one of my best pals. He too was smart as a whip.
A little ways past the York's was the stop for the Swain kids. I vaguely remember that Rex Swain was a classmate of mine. Our last stop was at the front of Gilford Grade School. In my day it included grades one through eight, two grades to a room. It was brand new then and very nice. My favorite teacher there was a Mrs. Davis (nee Miss Fish ).
I especially remember two things about attending that school. I remember assemblies held in the cafetorium on the lower level. During WWII we'd gather there to listen to the radio and important Presidential (FDR) speeches or special reports about the war. Secondly, I remember how great that large field behind the school was for baseball or other playtime activities. Marbles was really popular and great fun. I graduated from eighth grade there in 1946.
Before we get back to the main topic of the bus ride, I'd like to also mention a wonderful lady and friend who worked in the school cafeteria. Mrs. James was an especially kind person to all of the kids but I knew her outside of the school setting too.
Mrs. James was a widow of a railroad conductor who lived not far from the Governor's Island gate. She told me many stories about the early railroads that criss-crossed the New Hampshire lakes region in the late 1800's and early 1900's. She even gave me a shoebox full of railroad passes that her late husband had collected and used. (Sadly, I cannot recall whatever I did with them). Those passes were for employee passage on all sorts of short line railroads that once ran around Lake Winnipesaukee and the state.
She also told me fascinating stories about her father's Civil War experiences. Those sessions were even more special because I would listen while eating her freshly baked cookies. Mrs. James was a delightful person.
But let's return to the matter of the school bus ride. After school, around 3:00 P.M., we'd once again board the bus at school to reverse our route. Along the way we'd stop at Laconia High School and take on those older kids who shared the ride with grade schoolers.
In the winter there were occasionally some frustrating times when we'd trudge through the snows to the gate and discover only after an hour or so that there would be no bus that day. The system for notifying parents and students of school closures or bus cancellations was not yet developed or dependable. Even radio station WLNH in Laconia didn't often mention weather problems that might affect Gilford people.
Getting to and from our house on the island to the bus stop at the gate was often the most interesting part of the school commute for me. I usually had to hustle from the house to the bus in the mornings (so as not to be left behind), but my homeward trek was usually more leisurely. Then I would take time to enjoy the scenery, the wildlife or Mr. Grider's irresistible apple trees that were close to the roadside.
I especially remember one very cool Fall morning walk to the bus. I had paused briefly on the wooden bridge over the channel that separated the island from the mainland. I was peering down into the water to see if there were any fish when I heard a clop-clop-clop of hoofbeats coming along the road towards the island .. and me.
There just a few yards away was a huge bull moose with enormous antlers. He was ambling down the road quite casually but to my mind represented a potential danger, or so I thought. I froze at the railing, not knowing whether to climb over the side or stand still. Well, to my great relief, he simply walked by, turned to give me a glance and continued towards the safety of the island. The island was a refuge and game preserve where hunters were not allowed. He knew it I'm sure.
My fondest memories of that school bus ride still are of dear old Mr. Haines. For about ten years I was a regular rider on that big yellow bus to Gilford (and Laconia too, later on). It left many fine memories.