I drove on a driver’s permit forever. I finally had to get a real driver’s license when my usual companions went off to college and I was to be a senior in high school. Back in those days, you could just drive on a learner’s permit with any licensed driver in the car–regardless of their age or relationship.

My big story about learning how to drive is the cars of those days. I learned (and attempted the whole parallel parking thing) with our family’s 1976 Chrylser Newport. It was huge! It might have been easier to take my test steering The Admiral!

To this day, I am a great parallel parker. I like to attribute that to learning on a nearly impossible automobile.

My first motorized vehicle was a mini bike at 10. Several motorcycles later, my first behind the wheel car experience at 14 (you could get away with that back then), a 63 Chevy station wagon. A trip around a shopping center lot, then a subdivision. No big problem driving unless you count my driver’s ed teacher teasing me that I had hit someone using the simulator. Such a tease she was. I believed her, even though I never saw a pedestrian on the film.
The best driver teaching story involved my mom. The early power brakes were grabby to say the least. My dad was teaching my mom to drive our new station wagon so she could help drive it on vacation in the Colorado mountains. We giggled when she hit the brakes and we came to a sudden stop until she got used to the newfangled power assist. We tried our best to stay quiet, but it was SO funny with our scrawny necks snapping back and forth every block or so.
The best was yet to come. We went on the “Oh My God” road in the mountains. Look it up…it’s famous in Colorado. My dad had to back up and turn around on the narrow, less than two full lane road with no guardrails because of an accident in the road ahead. We were in the very back and our spots were totally over the edge of the cliff as he turned around. Talk about terror! My poor father…all that girly screaming…and a week of vacation left.

My first day driving with my permit, I had driven around for about an hour with my mother in her new nissan maxima, we decided to stop by my grandmother’s house and when I pulled into the driveway and went to put on the final brake before putting the car in park, I hit the gas pedal by accident and went right through the garage door. All in all I was lucky in the situation because it was a two car garage with separate doors which had support beams in the middle, and I was lucky not to hit the support beams and also not pulling in behind the door with her car inside. Could have ended up much worse. Also the repair shop fixed the car for free because the guy felt bad for me and said he had a daughter getting ready to drive soon too

I was afraid to drive for a long time afterwards, and luckily my parents forced me back to driving again….

Like many growing up in the South when I did, I got a learners permit at 15, and my license at 16. My mother was my primary teacher, but I picked up pointers from many others. My first vehicle was a an old Ford truck, with a 3 speed column shifter. I went back and forth between autos and manuals up until I got married. My wife never learned how to drive a stick, and since we were college students and drove old cars, I stuck to autos because there was always the possibility that she would have to drive my car if hers was on the blink. Then a friend had an older sports car for sale at an irresistible price – but it was a stick.

I rationalized the purchase as a “great deal”, and besides, now would be the perfect time to teach my wife to drive a manual. I took her out to a big empty parking lot, and for about 2 weeks we would practice. She went from the inevitable “Lurch and Stall” to a hesitant frog hop and run, to finally being able to start and stop with reliability. I figured she was ready for a quick tour of the roads. What I didn’t do though was pre-drive the selected route – we just left the parking lot and went driving. Almost immediately, we came to a stop on a hill – which is when I realized I hadn’t taught her to start while on an incline. I tried to coach her through it, but she stalled the car. Growing ever more panicked she rolled the car back – almost hitting a truck behind us. The truck driver was getting mad and yelling and the wife was in full on panic – so I put on the parking brake (a lever in between the seats) had her start the car, rev it to about 3000, then slowly release the clutch. When I felt the car hunch down and fight the brake, I released the brake and off we shot.

As soon as we could find a place to park, we did. We switched places and I drove home. I ended up selling the car not long after that, and the wife Still can’t drive a stick. Sometimes I think about getting another sports car with a manual, but then that memory comes back. 11 years isn’t long enough to make that memory fade – I think I’ll stick with an automatic.

I learned to drive at about 14 years old by getting the spare key to my Dads GMC truck from his sock drawer when my parents left the house. One day my Dad said to me, I here your driving pretty good. Just put some gas in the truck when you use it. That was the funny part. The bad part came when I got grounded and he moved the spare key. He did however let me drive when he was with me out in the country.

I think that history repeats itself. When my daughter was a little over 16, I was prepaired to give her a first driving lesson. It wasn’t much of a lesson. She drove like she had been doing it for years. Scary

I got my permit at 18, and my license the same year. In high school though, you were considered “uncool” if you couldn’t drive by junior year. So I lied a lot and bummed rides from people. The reason I waited so long was because I was just lazy. I didn’t want to pay for gas, and I didn’t want to read the handbook.

I never did read the handbook, and easily passed the written test. I barely passed the eye test (I’ve gotten glasses since then), though. The driving test…well, I knew the horror stories. Everyone at school went to the same place to take the test, so it was well-known how horrible the officers there were. Each would grade very harshly, and each would take points off for different things. The first time I took the test, I had the infamous officer who never passed a single student…or so the rumors said. I wasn’t an exception. She failed me for not putting on my blinker soon enough (even though if I had, I would have been signaling that I was turning into a different road, not the road she told me to go on), for stopping at the white line for the stop sign then slowing inching forward to see around some bushes (She told me the correct way was to just not stop at all, and drive into the intersection until I could see. Nevermind if any traffic was coming), and then because I watched traffic while making a turn, even though they had a red light (I hadn’t known they had a red light, so I slowed to make sure no one was coming, and she docked me). I wasn’t really sad when I failed. Just mad, because I knew I had been right with all of my “problems”. I had done the right thing, but she failed me anyways. 2 weeks later, I hadn’t driven since my first test, and I went to take it again. I got a different officer, and passed easily, doing the exact same things. Amazing.

I’ve now been driving several years, and I firmly believe that I made the right choice to wait. It’s amazing what a difference 2 years makes when you’re that young. I am very glad I didn’t give in to the pressure and get my license right away.

Oh, and I learned to drive in a cemetary. My mom taught me. She had also taught her sisters and her mother how to drive, in the same cemetary. The cemetary was good because it’s usually fairly empty, but there are turns and hills and cul-de-sacs. Plus, if you crash, you won’t have to go very far.