Star-Journbal Editor
At first, school bus driver Joan Jost didn't want to smile for her retirement photo.
Her former riders wouldn't recognize her, she said, because they never saw her smiling in the rear-view mirror before.
They saw her no-nonsense expression, and a scowl that said, "Sit down, now!"
It wasn't that she was grouchy; rather, she took her role seriously.
Now that the last child is safely off the bus, Jost is wearing a reflective smile.
As a driver in the Durham, Hillsboro, Lehigh district for 33 years, she delivered America's future safely to and from school. She was honored last month by USD 410.
"In all 33 years that I drove, I only wiped out one mailbox, and got stuck in snow, and mud, and ice, one time each," Jost said. "And, I wiped out one dog."
Driving the blacktop and dirt roads from Durham to Lehigh to Hillsboro and townships in between twice a day, sometimes three times a day, equals a lot of Marion County miles. Include the miles she drove taking Hillsboro teams back and forth, she figures she drove at least 10,000 miles per year.
She put 13,000 miles on bus number 38 last year. Add it all together, and she has driven around the world and then some. Toward the end of her run there was often a sense of deja vu when she looked in the rearview mirror.
"A lot of the kids that are in school now, I had their parents on the bus when they were in school," Jost said.
Among the familiar faces were those of her own grandchildren, Jandee and Kaylee Sheldon, her daughter, Karen Sheldon, and her two sons, Keith and Kert. All those years, Mom never let her kids or grandkids break the rules.
"My daughter used to say I had eyes in the back of my head," she said.
The basic rules were always the same. Stay in your seat, do not turn around, no yelling and don't throw things, are state laws, and for good reason, she said.
Children, especially the younger ones, have normally not yet developed the mental capacity to fully embrace the danger and consequences of making a mistake that could cost them their lives.
The responsibility for this precious cargo is the driver's alone, which is why drivers like Jost are required to pass rigorous licensing tests.
"In addition to the licensing test, we took defensive driving every three years, first aid every three years, CPR every year, " she said. "And, we have to have a physical every two years, plus we have safety meetings every month."
As careful as she was, Jost could not control the bad weather or the wackos, for which she was on the lookout all the time.
"If I have a gripe, drivers not stopping when the school bus is stopped and the stop sign is out, is the biggest," she said, adding that a dozen or more drivers had endangered lives by not stopping.
"We write letters to the person if we can get the plate number," she said. "Most of the time we get an apology back."
Even worse that drivers with their heads in the clouds was driving through fog.
"I would drive on ice, or mud, or snow, or anything else, but fog is just
"You don't know what is coming in front or behind and it is just terrible, " she said.
The closest she came to a deadly collision happened on a foggy morning, many years ago, out U.S.-56.
"It was so foggy I couldn't see the kids who were supposed to come across the road to get into the bus," she said. "I called in and said I wasn't going to pick those kids up that way. So I drove clear into their yard, turned around and came back out to be on the same side of the road.
"So I asked all the kids to be quiet, because I had to hear, because I couldn't see..
"I barely got on the road and here came three 18-wheelers, full-speed, right at me. I mean, if I wouldn't have gotten back in my lane as quick as I did, why they would have gotten me."
Despite the hair-raising episode, Jost has a sense of humor about the canine casualty, but admits it wasn't funny at the time.
"[The dog] belonged to some students on the bus," she said. "They'd already gotten out and were running toward home, so they didn't see it happen, but I got that dog.
"I usually watched for him because he liked to chase the bus, but that particular day, someone in the back of the bus did something that I had to call them down for. When I looked up, the dog was right in front of me. I hit my brakes but I couldn't stop.
"But the dog wasn't dead, yet," she added. "The kids saw him clomping around back there and they said, 'back up and hit him again!' But she didn't.
"I called the parents as soon as I got off the route and they said that it was something that couldn't be helped, " Jost said. "The dog had that habit and they knew it."
Breaking the habit of being the bus driver will be hardest on the first day of school, Jost said. Her last day of driving was also one to remember.
"I told them on the last morning that I was on my last route and even one of the high school boys tapped me on the shoulder and said thanks, and that meant a lot," she said.
While her days of driving children may be over, the wheels on her bus go 'round and 'round. Jost and her husband, Jerry, are working at a new job, picking up new school buses from the manufacturer and deliver them to the dealers.
How does she feel about driving an empty bus?
"That's fine," she said. "I just hope they're air-conditioned."
