While “Safety Sally” took a beating
in the streets of Brownsville
By Rene Torres
St Joseph's Patrol Boys
front row l to r: Fred Champion, Rolando Flores, Hector Gonzalez and Humberto Garcia
back row l to r:: Ruben Recio, Ernest Pena, Willie Cavazos and Edward Medellin
Keeping
school children safe on the streets of Brownsville in the 1940s was a serious
proposition. It was so critical that the
local schools formed safety patrol groups—kids that took their places on street
corners to safeguard movement of their classmates.
In the early
days, the idea was not to control car traffic, but to instruct, direct and
control the members of the student body in crossing the street at or near
school corners during the “rush” to get home.
In some
cities in the Valley, it was common to see a patrol boy hold his arms out from his
side, and students would line up behind him.
When the traffic cleared and it was safe to cross, his arms would come
down and children would proceed across the intersection.
The Safety
Patrol program was started nationally in 1920 by the American Automobile
Association (AAA). Locally, many kids
eagerly volunteered for the chance to use their whistle and to wear a belt-
like strap across their chest and waist.
Still others were adorned with arm bands, a variety of hat wear and yes,
even a dress jacket—as you see in the given photo.
There was
upward mobility within the safety patrol organization; the program had a “ranking”
system which led to leadership roles. In
some schools, you had to be in a certain grade level in order to participate
and if you demonstrated initiative, you could be promoted as an officer of your
squad. It was common to start as a flag
bearer and then work yourself up to giving commands with the elusive whistle.
In the
1940s, those school districts involved with the national school safety program
could choose to participate in the summer vacation camps. Those lucky kids chosen to attend a camp went
through several days of intensive leadership training and upon returning to
their school were promoted accordingly.
One of those
local safety patrol kids of the 1960s that became a role model to others was
Victor Rodriguez. As a youngster, Victor
attended Resaca Elementary where he climbed up the safety patrol ladder to
become chief officer of the program.
Speaking recently, Chief Rodriguez commented that
it was also the duty of a patrol boy to monitor behavior around campus. For instance, “I vividly remember reminding
some of my classmates that speaking Spanish on campus was against school
rules.” Victor went to say that the
language rule was one of the realities one faced growing up in the Rio Grande
Valley in the 1960s.
Rodriguez
moved on to become this city’s police chief and soon after was appointed to the
Texas Board of Pardon and Paroles in Austin.
Today, the former safety patrol boy from Resaca Elementary leads all
patrol boys and girls as McAllen’s Police Chief.
The familiar
safety patrol boys that were stationed at various intersections to safeguard children
from traffic hazards is a thing of the past.
The Safety Patrol programs vanished and rightly so, as motorists today
are so engulfed with rushing somewhere that they even ignore the flashing
lights of a school bus.
“Safety Sally” took a beating in
Brownsville…
Beyond the
school intersections there was another icon on the streets of Brownsville performing
the same chores as the patrol boys did. Her name was “Safety Sally, a metal sign that
was placed in the middle of the street warning the careful and careless
motorist to drive safely.
In 1946, the
little girl that mutely attempted to protect pedestrians took a beating from
motorists that ran through and over her smiling face. There was no exact number of how many were
broken, but a newspaper report stated that the breakage was significant.
While little
Miss Sally was the pet of Brownsville, she was also seen in other main streets
of the Valley. The gals were brought
here in 1942 by the 20-30 club and all 50 of the rosy cheeked Sallies became an
instant hit…if you know what I mean.
According to
Gene Barton, Herald staff reporter of then, at one point the young ladies were
rather lonely as their dads marched off to war.
Although ignored during WWII, they survived and made a comeback when the
local lads returned. Barton wrote, “In
1945 they went to the ‘beauty parlor’ and again assigned their jobs near school
building.”
Soon after
the war, there were provisions made for 6 of the gals along 14th
Street, two on 13th Street, and two each on St. Charles, St Francis
and Levee Streets. Along Elizabeth
Street, there were stations for six, Jefferson four, Madison and Adams Streets
two each, and 2 at the Los Ebanos School crossing.
Although
brave on the job, the little ladies were afraid to venture out to Elizabeth Street
as it proved to be one of the most dangerous spots in the city. It was estimated that about 25 had lost their
lives from hit and run drivers. With
those statistics, do you blame them for being afraid?
To the
motorists of Brownsville and the Valley, the message was clear. Next time you see a “Safety Sally,” members
of the 20-30 club said, “Think about the 25 who were victims of hit and run
drivers and remember one of them could have been your own daughter.”
The 20-30
club was a service organization made up of young men between the ages of 20 to
39 whose mission was to help the children of the community.
A word of
advice, “Look both ways before you cross.”