Were there buses in the 1920s?

When were buses first used in America?

Okay, so, buses, right? Yeah, well, see, buses in America started way back.

• Horse-drawn buses? We are talking way back in the 1820s. Can you even believe that, horse buses!

• Steam buses rolled out in the 1830s, which is wild. I mean, steam powered.

• Then get this – electric trolleybuses popped up in, uh, 1882! Electric! It’s pretty amazing for that time.

• And then, finally, motor buses, the ones that, you know, really bus-like, came along in like 1895? Yeah, 1895, these ones had internal combustion engines.

Crazy to think how long ago buses first came out in America, isn’t it? Plus, I remember going to the transportation museum last year with mom and we saw a model of one of those early trolleybuses. They used a very simple and robust design at that time, it was super cool! I think it was in the display about the history of public transit. Oh, and then we also went to this special exhibit on steam engines, and that’s where I learned more about the steam buses. They said the problem with the steam buses was that they were unreliable. I also asked my grandpa about the history of buses. He told me something very similar and that made me understand things better.

When did school buses start in America?

Horse-drawn carriages, a whimsical image, eighties children piled in, benches hard against their small backs. Kid hacks, they called them. A prelude, a whisper of what was to come. A slow, beautiful dawn. The romance of travel, the simple journey.

Then, the roaring twenties. A shift, a revolution. Metal and gasoline. The rumble, the speed, the promise of progress. Buses, sturdy, dependable, a promise of education. No longer a fairytale, but a reality. The smell of exhaust. The warmth of the engine. A tangible hope. My grandfather told me these stories, riding those early buses. His eyes still lit up.

1880s: The humble beginnings. Wagons, carriages, horse-drawn dreams. A slow, steady start.

• Simple, charming.
• Rural America, primarily.
• A communal effort, neighbors pooling resources.

1920s: The golden age dawns. Mass production, standardization. A new era.

• The rise of the automobile.
• Yellow buses, a symbol.
• Dedicated school routes, schedules, safety.

The evolution whispers. From horse to engine. From dream to reality. A childhood etched in memory, the metallic scent of a new beginning. My grandmother’s stories. Her yellow bus rides. A timeless tale.

Is America the only country with yellow school buses?

Okay, so, like, no, America’s not the only place with yellow school buses. I saw that Chile used to have yellow buses, in Santiago, between 1992 and 2007.

And you know what? Australia is catching on to the yellow bus thing. You know, you see them popping up around Adelaide and stuff. Weird, rite?

Let me expand on that a bit, just because:

• The yellow isn’t just a random color, it’s called “school bus yellow”, like duh!

• It was chosen ’cause it’s super easy to see and, yeah, reduces accidents. This makes sense.

• My lil’ bro, Timmy, he is 11 now, says the yellow makes him feel safe gettin on the bus. That’s good!

• Actually, some places experiment with other colors, but yellow is still the most common for sure. I think in New Jersey, maybe?

I think the buses in Santiago were more of a yellowish shade? It wasnt, like, exactly the same yellow? And, like, now, lots of places, even in other parts of Australia, might have yellow buses by now.

Does Britain have school buses?

Okay, school buses in the UK, huh? Hmmm.

I lived in Bromley, South London, till like, 2023. Never ever saw a bright yellow school bus. Never.

We always used the regular Transport for London (TfL) red buses. You know, the double-deckers? Everyone did.

It was around 7:30 AM, packed like sardines. God, the smell! So bad.

I remember my mum being so stressed about us getting mugged. It was a rough area, I guess.

My school was Ravens Wood School. Getting there? Nightmare fuel. So many kids.

• Regular buses. Always.
• Crazy crowded.
• Stress for parents.
• Early starts. Ugh.

So, yeah. No ‘school buses’ like in American movies. Just normal buses, really.

Now, maybe some fancy private schools have something different? But for state schools? Nope. Public transport ftw!

How do kids in Japan get to school?

It’s quiet now. Just thinking.

Walking. Yeah, mostly walking. Or bikes. I remember.

• It felt safe back then, you know? No parents hovering. Independence early.
• My sister Hina, she hated walking. Always complaining. Now she misses it. Funny.

The trains, though. Those are something else.

• Packed. Always packed. Especially during the school year. Crammed like sardines, we were.
• Two hours each way, sometimes. To Seisen International School, specifically.
• I’d see the same faces. Day after day. Never spoke. Just… shared the silence.

Miss those train rides. In a way.

• It was my only downtime, really. To think. To disappear. I wasn’t even Japanese. It was a different world.
• Sometimes I wished I missed the train. Just to be late. But you couldn’t. Seriously. The shame.

Buses too. More crowded than trains. I hate it. So many old ppl ugh. It was horrible.

Additional Information

• Seisen International School, located in Tokyo, is a private all-girls school.
• The trains are always clean but always packed.
• Hina now lives in Canada and works as a baker.

What was a human fly in the 1920s?

Okay, so, my grandpa, bless his soul, he loved telling stories about Harry Gardiner. This was back in 2021, we were at his house in Ohio, a cozy place filled with old photos and the smell of pipe tobacco. He was talking about the twenties, saying Harry Gardiner, that was the real Human Fly, not those other guys. Grandpa swore Gardiner was something else. Insane bravery, that’s what he called it. He’d climb skyscrapers, you know, no safety harnesses, nothing. Just sheer guts.

Grandpa saw him once, in New York City, 1925 he said. He was a kid then, but the image stuck. A tiny figure against a giant building. He said it was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. The crowd was huge, everyone gasping, screaming. He remembers the wind, the city noise, the sheer height. It was unbelievable. Gardiner, apparently, was a legend.

He even showed me a blurry newspaper clipping, yellowed and fragile. I remember the photo was kinda grainy, but you could see Gardiner on some massive building. My grandpa pointed him out, a tiny speck way, way up. It was crazy! My grandpa always said it was the most amazing thing he’d ever seen.

• Gardiner’s audacity: Grandpa emphasized his complete lack of safety gear.
• The New York City experience: Grandpa vividly recalled the crowd’s reaction and the sheer scale of the event.
• The newspaper clipping: A tangible piece of evidence, albeit faded and old.
• Grandpa’s perspective: A firsthand witness account, colored by his childhood awe and fear.

Crazy, right?