Tag Archives: Daddy

How I Learned To Drive

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When I was the appropriate age, about fifteen, I took the regular Driver’s Ed. class in school. It was regular then, not so much now.   But it was all book learning – no actual behind-the-wheel training.

So my dad took on the job of teaching me to drive.  I thought it would take a day or two for me to become a good driver.  Boy, was I in for a surprise!  To begin with, I learned to drive on a four-speed stick-shift – not easy.

First he took me to an abandoned shopping center parking lot to teach me to park.  Yes, the dreaded parallel parking!  He would stand at the end of one space, pretending to be the back end of a car.  I was then to park behind him – without hitting him!

Oh mercy sakes!  Figure out how to parallel park or kill your father!  And he never budged one inch – ever!

Then we would drive home on the freeway – of all things!  Believe me, I was thrown in the deep end of the driving pool.

But I did pretty good, until the day he had me drive all the way into the driveway.  Evidently I was getting too close to the garage door and he yelled, “Stop!!!!!!”  He startled me so badly I pressed on the gas instead of the brake.  We went through the garage door, damaged the brick surround, which fell on the washer and dryer, and the car, damaging all of them.

Sitting in the car with a garage door and bricks on top of me, I was in tears.  I cried, “I don’t believe this!”  “Oh, believe it!” he said in a very flat tone.

During the reconstruction of the garage, my friends asked what kind of renovation were we doing at our house.  I was too ashamed to say I had driven through the garage door.

I did get better and eventually was able to drive all the way home and park the car in the garage with no harm to house or car.

My dad was a good teacher and taught me everything I needed to know to take my driver’s test.  On the day of the test, the gentleman said my parallel parking was great and my freeway driving was very good.

The one thing I didn’t know and Daddy failed to tell me – don’t stop in a crosswalk.  Oops!

But I passed my test with flying colors and never ran into a garage door again.

Daddy

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My father was somewhat of a wild child in his youth.  No one thought he would grow up to be the serious, successful man he became.  He had a wonderful sense of humor and didn’t always obey the rules.

He and my mother grew up together in the same small town, so they always knew each other.  I think they fell in love at a young age.  Maybe it was because my father was so much fun to be around.  I know he adored my mother until his dying day.

While trying to enlist in the service during WWII, he discovered he was color blind. Consequently, he joined the CB’s (Construction Battalion) and spent the war building bridges and other structures for the Navy.

He learned a lot about construction during his tour, which served him well the rest of his life.  Psychologically he never adjusted to military life.  That old thing about not obeying rules, especially if they didn’t make sense, really got in his way.  He always had a bit of a rebel in him.

After the war he married, went to college and had three children. Those were lean years, but fun according to him.  He always had a funny story to tell about any period of his life.

And living in a mobile home with a family while working and going to school on the GI Bill must have been hysterically funny, because his memories of that time were amazing.  I think my mother remembered having three babies in three years in a small mobile home a little differently!

Daddy was always the epitome of what a father should be. He was smart.  He was witty. He was honest.  He was fair to a fault.  He loved me completely.   He could fix anything. He was a gentleman.

He made mundane things fun.  His sense humor was legendary.  He could make the grumpiest people laugh.  It was magical to watch him.

And he had a way with kids.   Strange children would just slowly come up to him and climb onto his lap.  No words were said.  The children would just snuggle into my dad’s embrace as if they knew him their whole life.  Even he was mystified as to why it happened.

I have such wonderful memories of my father helping me with school work, questioning young boyfriends, driving us all on vacations, trying to punish the three of us children while hiding his smile, teaching our dog tricks, making Halloween costumes and teaching me to drive.

My dad taught me many things but mostly how to treat other people well.  Respect your elders.  Help the needy.  Say please and thank you.  Treat everyone with kindness.  He seldom got angry and was more often forgiving.

I did see him get really frustrated with the recurring plumbing problems in one house we rented and he threw a mop down the stairs.  That was as angry as I ever saw him and really pretty funny now as I remember it.

He wasn’t a perfect man but he was so perfect for me.  He died with dignity and grace after a long full life.  He left behind a wonderful legacy, to the following generations, of a great human being.

He was my Daddy my whole life.