Our family Dentist had an office in downtown Louisville. Aunt Doris ushered our bus rides to and from Jean and my appointments. Jean was eight years old and a few years younger than me. When it was determined that I was responsible and old enough to make the journey without Aunt Doris’ help, I was given the supervisor’s role for our dental journeys.
Several trips went well until the fateful day when I made the dreadful mistake of pulling the Fourth Street Bus exit signal rope line at the incorrect time and we stepped off the bus at the wrong corner.
That downtown Louisville intersection was crowded with pedestrians hurrying along the unfamiliar sidewalks. The Blue Motor Coach Station was not on the corner where we should take our last ride home. I felt an alarming sense of overpowering panic!
Jean grabbed my hand and said, “Oh Gerry! We are lost!”
I held her hand as she started to cry. Living in a loving home, I was not accustomed to the feeling of fear which now surrounded both of us.
Looking around, I saw a policeman. Knowing our Uncle, whom I loved and trusted, had been on the Police Force, I felt a sense of comfort in approaching this stranger in uniform who was directing traffic.
Explaining our predicament, the kind officer smiled and pointed down the street to where the Blue Motor Coach Station was located. We were saved!
After that thankful rescue, I was extremely careful, in the future, about when I pulled that Fourth Street Bus exit signal rope line.