In 1971, we returned to the Norwich Free Academy for the last bittersweet days of youth. Days, we would eventually realize, that were the best times in our lives.

Even though we were seniors, not much had changed. We were still riding the same bus, with the same driver we had since first grade: Mr. Leschinski. In my day, bus drivers had the utmost respect and support from parents and students.

In high school, no one gave Mr. Leschinski a hard time. If they did, they might find themselves walking miles home.

Yet, despite his strict policies, he was one of the finest role models I ever knew.

At the end of each school day, my friends and I had the habit of brazenly entering the bus with privilege, arrogantly claiming our seats in the back. Looking back at us in the mirror, Mr. Leschinski chuckled, finding the situation humorous.

“You kids may be riding high today, but let me tell you — life changes. The minute you get that diploma and step off that field— you start at the bottom of the barrel and have to work your way up.”

And then came his famous last words— “If you kids, never remember anything I ever said — remember this!”

When I was young, I did not realize what a blessing it was having the same bus driver for 12 years. I can still recall the special moments; from allowing our winter sleds on the bus, to saving us from bullies.

When Mr. Leschinski witnessed abuse, he addressed it. The word “bullying” was not in existence at this time. We did not have to give it a name. Everyone from the youngest child to the oldest understood how it felt.

Sometimes, my friend Gregory used to ride the school bus home with me. Despite his learning problems and students calling him names, we were best friends.

One day, when Gregory got on the bus, several boys shouted insults.

Some adults might pretend they did not hear—but not Mr. Leschinski. Immediately, he shut the motor off and stood up. With a bright red face, he looked angrily at the offenders and shouted — “NOT ON MY BUS!”

His eyes narrowed. “When you call someone a name like stupid, you’re only showing your ignorance. Want to show people how smart you are? Be brave! Get up and offer this kid a hand. And, if you kids, never remember anything I ever said — remember this!”

Another day, a teenage girl was crying in the back of the bus. Her dog had died that day. Mr. Leschinski called her up front.

“I had a dog once. Skipper,” he said, casually lighting a cigarette. “I was about your age when we lost him. I laid in bed bawling my eyes out until Aunt Ida came to visit.

“Would Skipper want you sad, lying in bed?” he said. “Nope. I think he would say to live your life,” and patted her heart. “Skipper didn’t leave you. He lives right here.”

Mr. Leschinski never said, but I believe he wanted to save us from harm. He knew how gullible and foolish we were. Maybe, he saw himself as a young child in each of us. Or maybe he wanted to be the mentor he never had.

Whatever the reason … we thank you, Mr. Leschinski.

And I want you to know…we never forgot anything you said.

Concetta Falcone-Codding is a 1971 graduate of the Norwich Free Academy and is the author of “The Lonely Nest.” You can contact at concettafalconecodding1@gmail.com.