They Fired Me After 40 Years Of Driving School Bus Just Because Some Parents Saw Me at a Motorcycle Rally

“So that’s it? One month before I retire, you’re suspending me because some parents suddenly discovered I ride a motorcycle?”

“Ray, please understand our position. The safety of the children—”

“Don’t.” I held up my hand. “Don’t you dare talk to me about the safety of those kids. I carried Jessica Meyer from her driveway to the bus for three years after her accident. I performed CPR on Tyler Brooks when he had an asthma attack. I’ve gotten every single child home safe through forty-two years of driving, even when the roads were sheets of ice and I couldn’t feel my fingers on the wheel.”

My voice broke then, something that hadn’t happened since Margaret passed five years back.

“And now I’m dangerous? Now I’m a threat?” I stood up, my old knees protesting. “You know what, John? You tell those parents who signed that petition that for forty-two years, I’ve been exactly who I am today. The only thing that’s changed is now they’ve decided to be afraid of a man they never bothered to know.”

I walked out of his office with what dignity I could muster. But inside, something was crumbling—the faith I’d had in a community I thought I belonged to.

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