This isn’t Skipper, but it is a boy from the same time period. Skipper wore knickers and high top shoes like this boy. The buckle is just like Skipper’s magic buckle. |
The Adventures of Skipper Todd
The Safety Patrol Boy
In the second half of the 4th grade I was asked to become a “Safety Patrol” boy in Grosse Pointe, MI by Maire School's only male teacher. I remember shortly after that he departed for the Army.
I was put on the corner of St. Clair and St. Paul – rather close to home and not very busy. In truth I don’t think my attention was totally focused on the job as it was later in my patrol boy career. I stood there any gazed at the cars coming up to the corner and coming to a halt for the stop sign. Somehow I fantasized that the large silver buckle on my patrol boy crossing guard belt had powerful qualities to cause cars to slow down and come to a halt. Much to my own amazement I was able to use this super power to control traffic for the rest of the year.
I must have been so successful at using my magic buckle that I was the next year promoted to St. Paul and Notre Dame corner which was busier. I took being a patrol boy very seriously. One day a kid by the name of Jerome came up to me while I was trying to do my job in protecting kids crossing the street and started to bully me – he had done this to me in the neighborhood also. I told him to stop – he did not – I turned around and knocked him down to the ground and punched him several times – and then immediately got back up and was ready to do my patrol duty - some girl told me that some neighbor had seen me do it – I was kind of worried – in a couple of days that I was promoted in the second half of my 5th grade year to Kerchival and Notre Dame which was one of the two busiest corners.
This was a very busy corner both with kid crossing as well as traffic – although I had a great deal of help with a traffic light. It was on this corner that I become even more knowledgeable about Betsey Black who was a child in the ungraded room. She lived over the store on that corner in an apartment with her grandmother. I always felt rather protective of Betsy – although truth be known Betsey was pretty good at taking care of herself – while she may have been in the “ungraded room” – the room which kids would walk on the other side of the hall to avoid – or quickly run up and peak inside and then run on – she could outsmart kids on the playground. Trading playing card pictures was a very popular thing to do during recess. Betsey Black seemed able to outsmart some of the guys who thought they could rip her off in trades.
Many years later, it was the memories of Betsy Black that led me into the field of working with kids who had disabilities – Maybe it was my tendency to see them as human beings – and understanding that the world is made up of many different varieties of human beings – I attribute that to spending a great deal of time earlier in life with Mamaw, my grandmother Neely.
I had another significant adventure while I was a patrol boy guard on the corner of Notre Dame and Kerchival. One day just as I was concluding my after lunch duties, I noticed a fellow hurrying past me who I had seen on a wanted poster in the police department behind the St. Clair Terrace where I lived. Truthfully, 67 years later I can’t remember what he was wanted for – but he definitely was on a police wanted poster. I started to follow him – another kid from school who was hurrying back to school after lunch asked what was up? I told him and he came along with me on the chase – as the afternoon went on I think the kid was more interested in skipping school than finding the “wanted man”.
Now back to the chase: the man went for a couple of blocks and then began cutting through some back yards – several of them – I sort of hung back because I didn’t want him to catch me following him – then I lost him – I just could not find him again. By this time we figured it was too late to go back to school so we circled around and went all the way back close to where the police station was behind St. Claire Terrace. I wanted to get another look at the poster and report to the police – the kid that was with me went on his way. The police saw me, I told them what I saw and had done – they thanked me and asked why I had not gone back to school – I said I was afraid to – so they proceeded to take me back to school. I cried. I was so ashamed – my classmates saw me crying which made me even more ashamed.
When I got home that evening, my parents were very calm. They said instead of following the fellow I should have reported back to school on time and gone to the office to ask them to notify the police. They must have appreciated how ashamed I was and were careful not to make it worse believing I had been trying to do the right thing. Some time later one of the policeman at the police department said something about the guy I had seen – confirming it was not my imagination and also suggested that I should have gone back to school on my own when I had the opportunity.
It is interesting, writing this up brings back that same emotion – whatever it was. Such is life and on about issues.
Joe Todd
June 2012
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