The one thing missing from my bingo card of daft things cooncils can do was getting rid of its lollipop men and women.
You know, the caring and compassionate folk who turn up every day, whether it is hissing down with rain, blowing a hoolie, or cold enough to encourage even brass monkeys to put on a jumper. And they do this with one mission first and foremost: to get our children and grandchildren across the road safely to school.
But, from now on, at corners, junctions and busy traffic routes across Aberdeenshire where there was once some guardian angel in hi-vis with a big lollipop stop sign – and a friendly smile – there will be nothing.
Aberdeenshire Council says it can’t afford the luxury of making sure children aren’t hit by cars on their way to class. Getting kids safely to school is a job for the parents, they say. Apply that logic, and I suppose at some point they can get rid of teachers. Making sure children are educated is surely the responsibility of parents, is it not?
And what will the effect be of this desolation of lollipop crossings when Aberdeenshire kids go back to school after the summer?
Fearful parents making sure their kids don’t come to harm by driving them there themselves, I wager. So, more cars on the road for the school run, more cars around schools, and more risk for the kids who do have to walk there.
The clear risks of this foolish move apart, Aberdeenshire Council has also unpicked one of the huge ties that helps bind communities together. Lollipop men and women are local legends, loved by the children who know someone is looking out for them every morning and afternoon, and by the parents reassured that their kids are in safe hands as they cross the road.
You just need to see the outpouring of affection and genuine gratitude shown by parents and children in the P&J’s report on the last working day of the lollipop men and women in Aberdeenshire to realise that.
Every one of us still remembers the lollipop man or lady who helped us cross the road when we were wee.
More than half a century on, I can still picture the gentle old codger at the crossing in front of my primary in Edinburgh. He would beam smiles at the kids and warning scowls at drivers he thought too slow to stop for him.
He always got a “good morning”, and we always got a: “You’d better hurry, the bell’s about to go.” And, at the end of term, he would need a wheelbarrow to take away all the boxes of After Eights and Family Circle tins of biscuits showered on him from grateful kids and parents.
Lollipop men and women are woven into the tapestry of everyday life in this country, from our earliest memories to keeping our own little ones safe. Shame on Aberdeenshire Council for rewarding their years of selfless service by ripping them out of the hearts of our communities.
Scott Begbie is a journalist and editor, as well as PR and comms manager for Aberdeen Inspired
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