Corner guys

I see him every morning on Rogers when I drop off my daughter at school. He’s always there at the corner. 

The crossing guard wears white gloves and takes his job seriously. He doesn’t smile but he doesn’t frown. He stands straight, watching the pedestrians and the changing lights, keeping order with his fluorescent vest and his stop sign. I don’t know him, but as a driver, I obey him. 

The crossing guard closer to home couldn’t be more different. He has a long, bushy beard, wears loose dark clothes and keeps his hoodie pulled up. You can barely see his face; he looks like a big gnome. I noticed him because of the buddy he always has beside him: laid back across the front steps of an old corner store, talking to the guard while he works. 

Despite his laid back appearance, this guard does his job. Vigilant, with a bouncy energy, every time someone approaches, he helps them across.

And then there’s the guard on Oakwood. He wears glasses, is balding, and has a slightly curved back – probably from years of leaning down to talk to shorter people. He looks like a professor, and when you talk to him, he listens. Truly interested in what you have to say. Right up until he gets back to work, helping more kids and families cross the busy street.

Crossing guards are the class act of our streets. They keep us and our kids safe in crazy traffic and they’re some of the few people left you can say hello to, and get to know. 

It’s too bad the City didn’t see it that way when they contracted out their jobs years ago. It was supposedly done to save money but the savings never materialized. The costs ballooned by 300% and the contract may now be under review.  And, most importantly, our guards were left without any of the security they provide to us.