The card read that it was time for my in-person driver’s license renewal. I had done that a few days earlier. As I tossed the card into the trash, I thought back (way, way, back) to my initial driving test. It was not as cut and dried as this one had been
There was no driver’s education in those days. Ken was my primary teacher. He had both the time and the patience
I didn’t particularly want to drive, but it was a need for me. I was involved in after school activities that required someone to take me and pick me up afterward. This was an inconvenience for my Dad as my mother did not drive. A teenager could get a hardship license at age 15. The paperwork was submitted and my eligibility approved.
I had studied the driving handbook well and aced the written test. Next came the actual driving part of the test. I followed the highway patrolman down the back steps of the courthouse in Breckenridge. It was a calm, sunny afternoon. I pointed out my car and we got in. The car was a standard shift as was usual in those days
I was told to begin. I put the car in reverse and backed into the street. I shifted into first gear and moved forward. As I pushed in the clutch to shift into second gear, I saw a little paper boy running along the sidewalk turn between two cars. He was looking straight ahead toward the street in front of me. He did not turn his head to look for a car in the street.
I instinctively braked to a stop instead of shifting into second.
The patrolman was watching me out of the corner of his eye, but his head was down as he filled out paperwork on a clipboard. Without looking up, he turned his head toward me and asked what I was doing.
At that point, there was a thud on the right front fender as the child ran into the stopped car. The patrolman was out in an instant. I turned the engine off and froze.
The boy scrambled to his feet. There were papers scattered along the street. Witnesses came running to see if he was hurt. It was determined that he was uninjured, only frightened. His papers were picked up.
As I recall, he did not want to be taken home but wanted to finish his paper route. At any rate, he and everyone left.
The patrolman asked me if I wanted to park the car and come back the next week or continue. I told him that if I did not go on right then, I might never drive a car again. He looked a little surprised (or perhaps amused) and said, “O.K., let’s start over.
I finished the driving test on auto pilot and passed. I believe that I even parallel parked without knocking over the pole markers.
Ken had taken me for the test. I was unusually calm. Ken asked if I wanted to drive. I said and no and moved to the passenger seat. He got in the driver’s seat. It was at that point that I came unhinged. He got me calmed down before we got home to tell my parents.
That is how my driving days began. I am blessed that I have had no accidents except a couple of fender benders where the other car was at fault.