We moved to Richland, PA, in the summer of 1957 when I was eight years old, and initially we stayed on the second floor of Isobel and Lynn Klopp’s house, which they rented out as an apartment. Their oldest son Randy and I became fast friends, and during that summer I got used to using the alley behind their house to get to where I wanted to go.

But when school was about to start (Randy and I both would be in third grade) Randy cautioned me that we could not use the alley to walk to school, even though the alley was just a hop, skip and a jump to Park Street which is where the Richland School was located. Taking the alley would have meant going to school was just a simple hundred yard dash, not even that.

No, as Randy explained, for all elementary school kids the alleys were verboten as a means to get to school. We had to walk the long way around the front of the house and go to the corner intersection of Park and Main Streets where there’d be a Safety Patrol person, an older kid from the sixth grade, to let us know when it was safe to cross the street. Given that Richland was a very small town (population less that 1300 in those days) and therefore had relatively little vehicular traffic on its streets, it was almost always safe to cross the street and even the slowest eight year old could probably figure out when to do so without breaking a sweat. Well, except when the shoe factory let out, and then all hell broke loose. But that was on the other side of town and it let out well after school hours.

I couldn’t see the point of forcing us to avoid the alley and having to take the long way around, but Randy was most insistent. I didn’t know what the penalty was for breaking this “rule” and I never learned because as far as I can recall, no one ever broke it. I do remember yearning to grow up to be a seventh grader because then I’d be able to walk the alleys with impunity.

When I attained the ripe old age of eleven, I was in Miss Irene Klopp’s sixth grade class, and that’s the class that got to do the Safety Patrol gig. I have no idea how the kids were chosen to be Safety Patrollers, but I believe they were rotated in some way or other, probably chosen from the kids who got the best grades in class, but I don’t recall. 

I assume that I must have been on the Safety Patrol rotation at some time or other, but I don’t recall that either. If I was, it’s just not something that I remember, either it’s too traumatic or too trivial.

What I do remember is that there were four Safety Patrollers at any given time as there were two intersections that were deemed worthy of being patrolled, each intersection needing two Patrollers.

There is one incident that comes to mind. It was when Pam Barry, one of the brightest kids in the class, was on Patrol. I don’t recall who the other Patrollers were.

The Patrollers were called to duty four times each day: at the start of the school day, at the lunch break, at the return from lunch in the afternoon, and finally at the end of the school day. They had to get to school early in order to slip on their Safety Patrol Belt for the kids coming to school. How else could the non-patrollers recognize them?

They also had to get the Safety Patrol flags on long sticks that they used to help indicate when it was safe to cross the street. Alas, I haven’t been able to find any images of those old flags.

When the morning classes ended and once again when the school day ended, they needed to slip on the Belts and get out to the intersections before the rest of the kids descended on those streets.

On this particular day as the morning session was coming to a close (around 11:45 AM if I recall correctly), Pam and the three other kids slipped on their belts and trotted out of the classroom door only to turn around almost immediately and re-enter the classroom, tails between their legs, sheepish expressions on their faces, as they headed to the cloakroom and donned the Safety Patrol Ponchos. Apparently it was raining.

Now you have to understand that those yellow ponchos were hideous, and worse than that, they were made of heavy rubber material, and in warm weather they were very uncomfortable to wear. No one liked to don them. They were most definitely not gay apparel. As I recall this bit of trivia, I guess that means I must have been a Patroller at some time.

Anyway once the class realized why they had come back, we broke into gales of laughter at their expense, and they quickly made their way outside so they could beat the school buzzer. Did we have a school buzzer? We must have.

Anyway fast forward to the end of the school day (3:30 PM), and once again the four intrepid Patrollers led by Pam Barry donned their Patrol Belts, grabbed their flags, and headed outside to protect the children from the traffic of small town Richland, and once again, practically without missing a beat, they returned with Pam in the lead, looking even more sheepish than earlier.

Except this time our teacher Miss Irene Klopp had stepped out of the classroom briefly for some reason for other, and she was right behind the four Patrollers.

And what did she behold when she returned to her classroom? Pandemonium. We were all laughing once again at the four Patrollers.

In Miss Irene Klopp’s eyes, this was unacceptable behavior, for she seemingly had forgotten that it was an instant replay of the little lunch time playlet.

All she considered was that she had left her class sitting quietly and when she returned it was in an uproar. Such behavior must not go unpunished.

So, clapping her hands, she sternly admonished us that she would not tolerate her class behaving like a bunch of wild animals. As penance, she was going to make us all stay one half hour after class!

As it happened, I had a piano lesson scheduled with Mrs. Ann Layser for 4:00 PM, and if I were held after school that half hour, I would be late for the lesson. And furthermore, earlier that day I had given Miss Irene Klopp a note from my mother explaining about the lesson.

So naturally, I walked to her desk and gently reminded her about my piano lesson, whereupon she announced to the class that I was exempt from staying after school because of a previous engagement. Not giving her a chance to change her mind or perhaps to suggest that instead I’d have to stay after class some other day, I skedaddled out of there.

As I was writing this, I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out why I had brought a note for the teacher about my piano lesson. The best explanation that I can come up with is that I probably rode my bicycle to school that day in order to make it easier to get to the piano lesson, which was on the opposite side of town from where we lived, and then return home afterward, and I probably needed a note from a parent to justify my riding a bike to school.

Now you may be wondering if anybody tried to explain to Miss Irene Klopp that we were all merely laughing at the return of the Safety Patrollers to don their ponchos, a repeat of the harmless lunch time amusement, and that otherwise we had all been behaving very properly. And the answer is of course not. Miss Irene Klopp was very old school, and I believe everyone realized that once she made up her mind there was no changing it; that would be a sign of weakness, and she couldn’t display weakness or it would interfere with discipline. 

I do wonder, however, if the punishment extended to the Safety Patrollers, as their duties probably only lasted about 15 minutes or so. When they returned, did they have to remain for the duration of the half hour?