By Charles Wiedenmann
In the crisp morning air of September 1978, a group of excited kids from Lawndale gathered at the corner of Rising Sun Avenue and Martins Mill Road, eagerly awaiting the arrival of the N bus. Their chatter echoed the nervous energy that comes with the anticipation of something new — their first day at Frankford High School.
The N bus, an iconic part of their daily routine, finally rumbled into view. With a familiar hiss of brakes, it came to a stop, its doors swinging open to welcome the eager students. As they boarded, the scent of fresh vinyl and the rhythmic hum of the bus engine set the backdrop for a journey into the unknown.
Among the group was Sarah, with her neatly braided hair and a schoolbag filled with the hopes and dreams of high school. Beside her stood James, a backpack slung over his shoulder, his excitement palpable. The bus, filled with the buzz of animated conversations and laughter, began its journey through the familiar streets of Lawndale.
As they approached Frankford High School, the kids peered out the windows, eyes wide with anticipation. The grand facade of the school loomed ahead, a symbol of the next chapter in their lives. The N bus came to a stop, and the doors creaked open, releasing a burst of adrenaline as the students stepped onto the sidewalk.
Navigating the crowded hallways, they discovered the labyrinth of classrooms, the buzz of lockers opening and closing, and the symphony of voices that filled the corridors. Amid the hustle and bustle, friendships from Lawndale endured, providing a familiar anchor in the sea of new faces. The bell echoed through the halls, signaling the beginning of their first class.
Sarah, James and their Lawndale friends found themselves side by side, facing the challenges and excitement of high school together. The classrooms, adorned with chalkboards and rows of desks, became the backdrop for a journey of growth and self-discovery.
As the bell rang for the end of the school day, the kids from Lawndale gathered once again at the bus stop. The N bus, with its familiar vibrations and the comforting hum of its engine, carried them back to the heart of Lawndale.
The ride home was filled with animated conversations about new teachers, unfamiliar hallways and the promise of what lay ahead. With each passing day, the N bus became a conduit for shared experiences, laughter and enduring friendships that would shape their high school years. And so, against the backdrop of Lawndale, the N bus became more than a mode of transportation; it was the vessel that carried them through the transformative journey of their teenage years. ••
Charles Wiedenmann is author of Lawndale, Stories from my Youth: Growing up in Northeast Philadelphia in the ‘60s and ‘70s and the recently released novel Island Serenade. His books are available by going to amazon.com and typing in his name.
