The title of my story is Benjamin Franklin and Me, but you are going to have to listen for the Ben Franklin part. The story is also about my favorite subject: me. I am a school bus driver. One hot day a few years ago, I decided to stop at Taco Bell on my way to the afternoon shift.
So set off for the bus yard in my car with the air conditioning blasting and my stereo blasting and the headlights on. I learned tacos and steering wheels don’t mix. I was missing the nourishment and staining my shirt. I pulled over to focus on eating. Then, I made a critical error. I turned the motor off. The battery was dead. Crank, crank. Silence. Crank, crank. Silence.
Because there is a school bus driver shortage, the company picked me up so they didn’t have to replace me. I got back to the bus yard and my two bus aides, Tom and Ursula. We were transporting for Early Childhood Learning Center with children as young as 4. Even with two bus aides it took a while to get everyone in.
The bus was not air conditioned. Tom nor Ursula were not young. Tom was over 80 and longing for the Good Old Days when society was more orderly and children were more obedient. Ursula was about 70 and from Korea. She society was more orderly there and children were more obedient. As different as they may have looked, Tom and Ursala bonded deeply over this vision of a better world far, far away.
On hot days the caregivers fall asleep and don’t come out to get the kids. We are not allowed to go on private property and knock on doors because of insurance and liability concerns. I called the dispatcher on the radio and awaited instructions each time.
Finally, the children had all been handed into the arms of their caregivers and we were free to get on with our lives. I am certain we looked like three old horses, ridden hard and put away wet. I asked if either Tom or Ursula could drive me back to my broken-down car so I could call Triple A and get a battery delivered.
“No,” said Tom. “That battery will be too expensive.” He knew I was barely making ends meet and I didn’t need the additional expense of a luxury-priced car battery. He said we should get the car jump started and go to his favorite garage, where the price would be fair.
“I have jumper cables,” Ursula said. And she did. I have never seen a cleaner or more beautiful set of jumper cables. They were in a clear plastic pouch, like they had never been used. None of us knew how to use them. All three of us were scared of getting shocked. Ursula took the lead. She found directions on the internet and soon her car breathed life into mine. We went to Tom’s garage and I bought a new battery and drove home feeling very fortunate that someone would risk heat stroke to help me.
Tom didn’t work summer school that year. Ursula and I had a special education route in a mini bus with broken air conditioning. I requested the repair, but it never got done. Ursula was incredulous that the equipment was there but wouldn’t be fixed. She showed up and did her best, regardless. One day she could in trouble for cleaning the bus too thoroughly. It took too long.
On the last day of summer school, Ursula handed me a sealed envelope, like this one. (hold up the envelope.)
“Put this in your pocketbook and do not open it until you get home,” she said. By then, I was used to obeying orders from bus aides. (open the envelope)
What do you think was in the envelope? Can anyone guess? I have enlarged it so you can all see. (I held up a 2-foot by 3-foot replica of a $100 bill with Ben Franklin’s portrait..)
It was a one-hundred-dollar bill with the portrait of Ben Franklin. It was the first, last and only one I have never had. I will never forget Tom and Ursula and all their kindness.
Thank you for listening.
(Copyright Christina Sturgis 2025. All Rights Reserved. This original story was presented live at Deep Water, a story concert by Patchwork Storytelling Guild, on March 23, 2025 in The Rotunda, Philadelphia, Pa.)