Life in the Ville by Jimmy Del Ponte

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I attended Somerville High School from 1969 to 1971 (Yes, I graduated!). One of my fondest and funniest memories was the bus ride home at the end of the school day. We used to walk down School Street and get the Clarendon Hill via Broadway bus. The driver would park until the bus was pretty much filled up and packed with a bunch of wise guys who would do anything for a laugh. It was very noisy on that bus as we let loose all the pent-up energy from the school day (school wasn’t as laid back in those days). Finally, we were free of that egomaniac “tough guy” math teacher Mr. #%@+@&! We had escaped the taunting of the mean “building master!” Yes, no one could bother us now because we had made it to the safety and comfort of the bus. It was a hassle-free zone. A teacherless refuge. A safe haven from bullies. A place where we could goof around!

The bus driver knew that there was the potential for a huge amount of tomfoolery. Being let out after a long day of high school, with all the rules, discipline and structure cast us into a near frenzy. He knew there was a good chance that we would yell out the windows, sing songs, and yell and scream like the crazy school kids we were. But of all the disturbed and screwball things we did, there was one trick that drove the bus driver wild. There was one twisted thing we were capable of that would actually force the driver to pull the bus over and get out until we stopped. What was it? We would all stand up on both sides of the bus and rock back and forth in unison until it was rocking and a rolling. We would get it rocking so much that it actually felt like it could tip over! Yes, I know it seems like we were out of control punks, but hey, we had no cell phones or iPods, no Play Stations, and no laptops or iPads. We had to entertain ourselves!

When the bus finally filled up and the driver started off, we would be OK until we got out of Magoun Square. Then we would start a chant: “Let’s rock the bus … let’s rock the bus…” We would get the bus rocking gradually. Then as soon as Ball Square came into view, the chant would change to “do it on the bridge … do it on the bridge!” By the time the bus went over the Ball Square bridge, it was rocking like a sideways see saw! The bus driver would pull over and get out of the bus until we stopped. We did stop … as soon as we got over the bridge. Most of us would be off the bus by the time it got to Powder House Park. That poor bus driver!

That old bus was great! It had the thick cushioned seats that were really comfortable. It drove very smoothly, too. You hardly felt the potholes. We had a lot of fun on those bus rides home from high school. Occasionally, one of those cool old buses will drive in the Memorial Day parade. Seeing one of those big, old orange dinosaurs really brings back great memories; a bunch of teenage goofballs having some harmless fun. Plus, where else could you have such a great time for only 10 cents?