Berkeley Junior Traffic Police
During the 1950’s, there were T.O. Girls and Traffic Boys at Thousand Oaks Elementary school in Berkeley. Each had its place in the life of the school. Only girls could enroll as T.O. Girls and only boys could sign up for Traffic Boys. Being male, I am more familiar with the operation of the Traffic Boys, otherwise known as the Berkeley Junior Traffic Police. I checked with my sisters and learned that the TO Girls were hall monitors, ran errands for the teachers, kept the bulletin boards up to date and so forth. The Traffic Boys were responsible for safe crossing at the major intersections within about a quarter mile of the school. Only fifth and sixth graders could participate in these activities, as they were considered senior and more responsible than the younger children. Kindergarteners through fourth graders looked up to these leaders with great respect and conformed to their directions.
Because I was part of this organization within a decade of World War II, there was a great sense of military pride in being a traffic boy. We had uniforms, drills, parades and marches. The Traffic Boys wore red sweaters emblazoned with a yellow patch with the initials BJTP in four quadrants of a cross. The boys all wore bright yellow felt caps with the same emblem on the left front. The caps were the shape of an inverted canoe. Sometimes the angle it was worn showed a bit of individuality, but most of the time, there was great conformity and the caps were worn straight or very slightly to one side. When removed for storage, the caps laid flat, as they were made of soft felt.
If a boy had additional responsibilities, his rank was shown on the front right side of the cap. Ranks included corporal, sergeant, top sergeant, quartermaster top sergeant and so forth. The symbols were similar to the inverted V of the Army rank designations. Top sergeants got the three inverted V’s over two V’s. Moving up in rank carried not only more leadership responsibilities, but prestige as well. Inside the cap was sewn the name of each person who had worn that cap. Sometimes, there were up to (an estimated) 40 names at which point the cap would be retired and replaced. As far as I know, names were not removed from the caps, but just passed on from one traffic boy to the next.
If it rained, instead of wearing the red sweaters and felt caps, we had bright yellow oilcloth slickers. I seem to remember a hood as well. All this gear was hung on pegs in a dressing room located on the downstairs playground side of the school. At the appointed time as signaled by the school bell, traffic boys would go to the dressing room and gear up. So, depending on the weather, we’d don our sweaters and caps or the rain gear. The leaders would get their whistles. The crossing guards would get their semaphores.
The semaphores were a big deal. This is how we made our mark on the driving community that would otherwise endanger the school children. These devices were made of round circular sheet metal about twenty-four inches in diameter. They were painted red. In white letters on a 45 degree diagonal was the word “STOP”. Above and below the STOP were the words in smaller cap letters: “SCHOOL CROSSING”. This attached to a pole that could be placed on the ground between the feet and held at arms length. In this position, the STOP writing was level with the street. When at rest, the STOP was at 90 degrees, so it was clear that the sign was out of use.
We had four intersections which we were assigned to patrol: Colusa and Tacoma; Tacoma and Ensenada; Solano and Colusa; and Tacoma and The Alameda. The big one was Solano and Colusa, where Solano is two lanes of traffic in each direction. So, depending on the size of the intersection, patrols of five to nine boys would march in groups to their assigned spots. The semaphores were carried upside down under the right arm with the poles sticking into the air. We marched in unison using the “Hut, hut, hut two three four” of military style. All our left feet hit the pavement on the “huts”. Sometimes for variety the commander of these groups would vary the cadence by delaying the three as follows: “Hut (pause), hut (pause), hut - two (pause and a half) three-four”.
When we arrived at the assigned intersections, the leader would rhythmically shout, “Patrol…halt”. Other marching commands included “to your posts”, “at ease”, “parade rest” and others I’ve forgotten. The whistle was also an important part of the protocol. The commander of each patrol had a whistle similar to a referee’s whistle. One long blow meant get ready. The next short blow meant go to your post in the street and stop the oncoming traffic with your semaphore. To do that, you’d twirl the semaphore to get it aligned properly and then on the next command, you’d march it into the street facing the oncoming traffic. The leaders were taught to only give the command to stop traffic when there were no approaching cars. We sometimes got really fancy with our whistle signals, but everyone knew what they meant. Once the school children got safely across, the leader would whistle “long, short-short”. On the long whistle, the patrol would twirl the semaphore in front of them and at the short-short, they’d march to the curb.
After no more children appeared needing to be shepherded across the street, the leader would whistle, “Long, long, short-short-short”. That meant we’re done for that session. We again assembled in our marching formation and on command, marched back to the dressing room with the semaphores under our arms.
Occasionally, a motorist would not obey our signals or would exhibit unsafe driving such as speeding. We would duly note the license plate and when we got back to the school after our duty, we’re report the offender to the police. I never knew if there was any enforcement of these infractions, but we felt important in the action. It instilled in us a responsibility to watch out for school children and to obey traffic laws even to this day.
Special parade reviews were organized where all the elementary schools in the city would get together on a school field. Each school was judged on how well it stayed in formation, how well it marched and a number of other criteria. There was a lot of competition to be your best. We’d always keep an eye out for the mistakes of other units so we could both learn from their errors and gloat over our precision. We were especially proud when we got a compliment from the Berkeley Police Officer Paul Hyurich. He was the officer in charge of the entire junior force. While he didn’t found the program, it was he who made it special through the direction he provided.
The Berkeley Junior Traffic Police were finally outmoded when elementary school students no longer attended their neighborhood schools due to efforts at racial integration. When students were bussed across town, they’d be dropped off at the destination without having to cross the street. Where crossing guards were still needed, it was felt that paid adults would do a better job. Signal lights have been installed at especially complicated intersections. I suspect that there might even be a crossing guard union. In eliminating the program from the student ranks, a huge opportunity has been lost to instill in our young people a sense of responsibility, organization, pride, discipline and being part of something important: Protecting the lives of children.
©Frank Bliss 2009 All rights reserved
June, 2009
Monday, June 1, 2009
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