The Old Blue Bus Goes South

I came to Shiloh in the summer of 1973.  Although coming to work in the year-round program, I came in the middle of the summer, so I worked as a teacher for the two remaining camp sessions.  I fell in love with four boys in one of my classes, and I asked for that age group when I got the East New York area that September. Working in the year-round program and then the summer camp for three years, I had those same boys as fourth, fifth, and sixth graders.

One for my fondest memories is the time we took the kids in our bible class home with us for their Spring Break.  Kimble Forrester took his kids to Nashville, and Kenny Beck, Mary Nell Garner, and I took ours to various cities in Arkansas.  The logistics of the trip were enormous, but we were young and in our first year as year-round workers, and thought nothing of making that trip.  Now, after thirty years of teaching and permission slips, when I think of that trip, I am more than amazed at the trust those parents had in Shiloh.

Kenny Beck and I got our bus drivers licenses to help drive the bus.  That’s another memory of weekends at the Bernardsville camp learning to drive the bus on the back roads, taking the bus to town for dinner, driving to Morristown to take the driving test.

Finally the day came for us to leave and we loaded the Shiloh bus with kids, luggage, and a whole lot of faith and took off.  We drove to Tennessee with stops for gas and food, dropped off the Nashville group, and then headed for Arkansas.  A few days later, we did the trip in reverse.

Somewhere along I-40 there is a sign for Shiloh, a town I suppose.  I have a photo of one of Kimble’s boys in the front of the bus, finding and reading scripture containing the word Shiloh.  We sang, slept, talked, but mostly we laughed all the way there and back.

My boys and I visited all the hot spots in Little Rock, and visited the farm of the parents of my best childhood friend.  Mainly we played: at the big park in town, on my front porch and in my yard.  They were amazed at how big my yard was (actually not all that large), but were also amazed at the fact that the neighbors were never out: sitting on their stoops visiting with each other.  Thirty years later it’s hard to remember all the details of the trip, but I do remember the laughter and fun.

The trip was not without problems.  Twice I had boys to get upset about something and refuse to come with me when it was time to leave.  At the time, I really was in a quandary about how to handle the situation.  However, things worked out both times, and now it’s a story to tell:  “Remember when . . .  wouldn’t get on the bus.”

When the day came to leave Little Rock, my boys put on their new Arkansas shirts, said good-bye to my parents, and got on the bus for the return trip.  Since I kept the bus at my house, we had the longest trip.

When my mom died years later, I found among her possessions a letter written by one my boys thanking her for the great time he had.  I still have the letter and am still in email contact with the boy (man now) who wrote it.

Karyn Blucker

East New York  1973-1976

Karyn Blucker lived in Brooklyn and taught for another year after Shiloh at Risen Christ Lutheran School in East New York.  She later moved to Denton Texas where she taught elementary school until her early retirement two years ago.