After more than 1 million miles, thousands of “good morning” greetings, 41 years of memories and zero speeding tickets, Norma Ulrich Friday closed the doors of the bus she drives for Indus School for the last time.
“I’m going to miss the kids,” Ulrich said of the hardest part of leaving the job. “It’s been a fun time.”
Ulrich, who grew up in the Loman-Indus area, attended school in both towns and says she knew this is where she was going to live for the rest of her life. But what she was going to do to earn a living was unclear, even when she got her bus driver’s license in 1972.
“I was asked to get my license if the school needed a substitute driver,” she said. “I had no idea this would turn into a 40-year venture.”
The bus driver said the experience has been rewarding and is unsure of how she will fill her days once she isn’t getting up to a 5 a.m. alarm that takes her on a 100-mile or more daily route.
“I’m going to sleep in and I’m going to do some chores,” Ulrich said of retirement. “And hopefully, I’ll just relax.”
And while it will be difficult, Ulrich said this is “the last time” she will retire. In 2000, she announced her retirement, but the district’s superintendent at the time convinced her to stay “for a little while.” Thirteen years later, that little while finally expired Friday.
Memory lane
As she sipped coffee from a mug that reads, “Anyone can drive a car, but it takes someone special to drive a school bus,” Ulrich recalled some of her favorite memories from the years behind the wheel, including the first time she had to pull the bus over.
“I looked in the mirror and all I could see was mittens flying,” she said with a laugh. “I told the kids we were going to stop until everyone has their own clothes.”
To make the memory even more comical, Ulrich said she had barely stopped the bus when a telephone repair man approached to see if Ulrich needed help.
“I told him it was nothing a few minutes of being stopped couldn’t solve,” she said. “He stepped on the bus and said, ‘Well, if you need sticks, I’ve got some pretty good ones on the top of my rig.”
Ulrich said she has also pulled over for several bathroom stops – especially for bundled up kindergarteners in the middle of winter.
Another time, a pair of kindergarten girls told Ulrich one was supposed to go home with the other, but they had lost the note with their parents’ permission.
“Well,” she said, “I didn’t think kindergarteners would lie.”
No sooner had Ulrich dropped the students off when the bus garage radioed drivers looking for one of the girls.
“Turns out, kindergartners lie,” Ulrich laughed. “She wasn’t supposed to go to her friend’s house. So, I turned around and picked her back up. Her mother was waiting for her at the school when we returned. I don’t think that little girl lied to the bus driver again.”
Ulrich said while she has never really gotten angry with kids, there was a time she had to “stay firm” with one high school student.
“Just before I dropped off the girl, she hit one of the boys on the head with her high-heeled shoe,” Ulrich said. “As the blood ran from his head, he told me, ‘I had it coming.’”
Ulrich added another of her favorite stories was when a group of students were batting balloons back and forth.
“This is one of those times I learned something on the bus,” she noted.
One of the younger passengers was very concerned and brought the balloon passing to Ulrich’s attention. Ulrich said she told the student as long as it didn’t get out of hand, she didn’t mind balloons going back and forth between the seats.
“The little girl said, ‘But it’s not balloons,’” Ulrich said, having a hard time containing her laughter. “They were condoms. That is the first I ever knew they came in colors.”
Clean record
Ulrich has been pulled over twice in her 41-year career, and only one of those times came with a written warning.
“The first time, during my late route, I was pulled over and the officer was looking for a certain student,” Urich recalled.
She didn’t have the student on the bus, but as it turned out, the student’s father had reported his daughter missing, but later discovered she had come home before him and was asleep in her bedroom.
The second time being pulled over, which Ulrich almost forgot, she had been on a longer trip with her late husband, who also drove bus.
“He had drove most of the way...but we switched just outside of Big Falls,” Ulrich said. “It was a brand new bus and I got across the bridge and saw the lights.”
The clearance lights on the bus weren’t working and Ulrich was issued a warning.
“I had to drive the rest of the way with my eight-way flashers on,” she said. “That was terrible, I had cars behind me that had no idea what to do. I really didn’t know what to do.”
Beloved passengers
The number of students Ulrich has transported at a time has varied through the years, and she has always greeted them the same way.
“I always tell them ‘good morning’ and I say their name,” she said.
During her career, Ulrich has bussed several generations of families and has enjoyed watching her extended family grow throughout the years.
“I feel like I already know kids when I drove their parents,” she said
While Ulrich is unsure of who will take her place as a permanent bus driver for the school, she kept the advice for her successors simple: “Love the children like your own. I know I did.”
An empty seat
Norine Kosobucki, a coworker and friend to Ulrich, found herself shedding tears as Ulrich spoke of the memories of her career.
“It makes your leaving all real for me,” Kosobucki told Ulrich over coffee this week.
After The Journal visited with Ulrich, Kosobucki added a few comments on how she will miss working alongside the woman who she has known for several years.
“Norma Ulrich is an example and a role model to many, many people, including myself,” she said. “The parents are so trusting of her...and know that no matter what, their kids are always safe. She is that wonderful of a person.”
Kosobucki said as a bus driver herself, she has often found herself solving situations by thinking, “What would Norma do?”
Kosobucki concluded that she is going to miss Ulrich “terribly,” but knows she’ll be knocking on Ulrich’s door several mornings during the week for a cup of coffee.
“She’ll be waiting for me to chat and solve the world’s problems,” Kosobucki said with a laugh. “There is no better than Norma Ulrich.”
