My dad and Grandpa Brugger were the first ones to take me driving. The first time I was behind the wheel was in Ephraim out by the Old Pioneer cemetery. A herd of sheep were milling around in the road and I was scared I would hit one. Dad kept saying, "Keep going - if you hit one, we will have mutton for dinner!" Not very comforting. He didn't say anything like the sheep were smart enough to get out the way of the car. I was a nervous wreck when I got home and never wanted to drive again!
Grandpa Brugger had a Chevy Nova that was a standard but it shifted on the steering column instead of on the floor. It was a very stiff shifting mechanism and I ended up in the ditch many times in that car (so did Grandpa Brugger!). I did like driving with Grandpa better than my parents though. He was much calmer and very patient and quiet.
I took drivers education at the school and Mr. Oakey and Mr. Bessey (Sir) were my teachers. The funny part of this is they were also Heidi and Pam's teachers. I got my license about 2 weeks before moving to Germany. I needed to have a stateside drivers license in order to get one in Germany when I turned 17.
Being a know it all teenager, I didn't study for my drivers test very hard and failed the first time. If I had gone alone, the MP giving it to me - would have let me pass anyway. But my dad was checking the answers over his shoulder and so I failed quickly. Dad and I studied for the retake and I scored 100 on it. No favors - didn't miss one.
Dad gave me free reign with the 1961 Comet station wagon. We fondly called her Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. Her nick name was Chitty and everyone called her that. Her body was so loose that when we drove slowly through towns, you could hear the body creaking before the engine. I could haul fairly large groups and loved that car. I could also load lots of stuff in it when needed. I drove that car all over Germany, Switzerland, Italy and even in Denmark.
When Clyde and I were first married we had a 1969 Toyota Corolla (my we have come far!). It was baby blue. Our next car was the green Toyota.
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
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I remember when Dad taught me how to drive a stick. I think I did pretty well, but when I got home my t-shirt was drenched in sweat. I was so nervous! I don't think I ever would have driven a stick again if the Beast hadn't broken down and I had the choice between the truck or riding the bus.
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