Learning to Drive
My mother was about 45 years old when my brother purchased a
used Chevrolet two-seater. When brother was a work, Mother decided she was
going to learn how to drive.
She loaded me (six years old) and my younger brother Cy into
the back seat and got the car started. It was parked on a flat area in front of
the house. She found reverse gear and had the clutch pushed in. When she took
her foot off the clutch pedal, the car zoomed backwards—crosswise in the road.
The engine stopped. She restarted the car, found low gear and released the
clutch. We were going down the hill—both sides of the road.
She finally got us on the right side of the road and away we
did go—two little ones in the back, crying and wailing to get out. Mother turned
a deaf ear to us.
Somehow, we made it to her sister’s house. The trip home was
much better. Mom was getting used to the clutch and gas pedal—really doing
pretty good. When we got to the hill, she stopped at the bottom, put the car in
gear, and up we went.
She drove past our parking spot, turned onto the driveway to
the garage, missed the brake but hit the gas!
Letting go of the wheel, she began hollering for Jesus to help us. The
car swung left—across the lawn which put the hood right into the living room.
This was the last time my mother ever wanted or tried to
drive!
Roger Wilson 6/18/15
