It was a straight shot, no curves and only one turn that took us into my Grandpa’s driveway. His van was an automatic, but he put it into gear and all I had to do was operate the accelerator pedal, the brake and keep it between the centerline of the roadway and the ditch on the right.
It was only a couple years later, actually three years, when I was fourteen that my dad started putting me behind the steering wheel on some of his trucks.
It was only a couple years later, actually three years, when I was fourteen that my dad started putting me behind the steering wheel on some of his trucks.
These were big old trucks. Dump trucks with a five-speed transmission and a granny gear with a two-speed rear end to boot.
Those reading this who didn’t follow that last bit of information, well just ask someone nearby to help you out. He also had an old International A-Frame that came out of the Oklahoma oil fields. This was one big, heavy chunk of steel. Slow, but dependable and got a lot of use. From those I graduated to driving his pickup that sported a three-speed on the column.
As I neared the age of sixteen and the opportunity to drive legally, my dear mother took on the task of instructing me on the proper way to drive a vehicle with an automatic transmission.
“You only need one foot to drive this”, she said, “There is no clutch pedal, so use the right foot only and move it back and forth between the accelerator and the brake”. Following my truck training, this was pretty simple as the vehicle was smaller and driving didn’t require the use of every possible appendage.
It was near the beginning of the school year following my sixteenth birthday. I had driven my parents' car to school for some event that I can no longer recall. What I do recall, however, is that when leaving the event, I approached the highway on the wrong side of the entrance. At the same time an upperclassman was trying to turn into the entrance and there I sat in his path. Since it was warm, all the car windows were down and I could hear him yelling at me, “Keep to the right, (additional words deleted)!” That I remember and that stuck!
Even in Wal-Mart while walking the aisles, with or without a cart, I keep to the right. Aisles that accommodate two-way traffic, I keep to the right. Wide aisles that resemble a four-lane highway with assorted kiosk down the center, I keep to the right. While most of the people in the store are darting around like a herd of cats, which I am certain reflects the way they drive, I keep to the right.
I just have one statement, “First Rule, Keep Right!”
(Paul Richardson's column, The Horse I Rode In On, is published weekly in the Neosho Daily News, Seneca News-Dispatch, Aurora Advertiser and on the Turner Report.)
As I neared the age of sixteen and the opportunity to drive legally, my dear mother took on the task of instructing me on the proper way to drive a vehicle with an automatic transmission.
“You only need one foot to drive this”, she said, “There is no clutch pedal, so use the right foot only and move it back and forth between the accelerator and the brake”. Following my truck training, this was pretty simple as the vehicle was smaller and driving didn’t require the use of every possible appendage.
It was near the beginning of the school year following my sixteenth birthday. I had driven my parents' car to school for some event that I can no longer recall. What I do recall, however, is that when leaving the event, I approached the highway on the wrong side of the entrance. At the same time an upperclassman was trying to turn into the entrance and there I sat in his path. Since it was warm, all the car windows were down and I could hear him yelling at me, “Keep to the right, (additional words deleted)!” That I remember and that stuck!
Even in Wal-Mart while walking the aisles, with or without a cart, I keep to the right. Aisles that accommodate two-way traffic, I keep to the right. Wide aisles that resemble a four-lane highway with assorted kiosk down the center, I keep to the right. While most of the people in the store are darting around like a herd of cats, which I am certain reflects the way they drive, I keep to the right.
I just have one statement, “First Rule, Keep Right!”
(Paul Richardson's column, The Horse I Rode In On, is published weekly in the Neosho Daily News, Seneca News-Dispatch, Aurora Advertiser and on the Turner Report.)
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