Father's Day Memory

Johnny Learns To Drive

Father’s Day 1998

There are many, many stories I could tell about Daddy. He died young enough for me to still call him that.  One cold and sunny day we were visiting my grandmother in the small country town near Bunkie where he grew up.  The afternoon was sort of slow and lazy so he said, “You need to learn how to drive, Let’s go!” I think we had something like a 38 Chevy Pick Up with a toothy grill that looked like a flesh-eating dinosaur.  We also had a squashed-faced, snorting gasping, asthmatic Boston terrier, Snotty, who for the life of me I had never figured out what his function in our family was.

We climbed into the truck with Snotty in the back.  I noticed the familiar faint aroma of Four Roses Bourbon, which always hovered around Daddy.  I thought it was some sort of cologne because I had smelled it all my life.  It blended nicely with the Three Flowers Brilliantene hair oil which he used faithfully in his coal black hair (which never turned gray; mine isn’t turning either).  We headed immediately to the levee where we started driving along the crest.

He said, “OK now get behind the wheel.” (I was 12).  This was a pick up truck with stick shift on the floor, (before automatic transmissions had even been conceived in Detroit).  He said “ I always believe when you teach someone something you should always start with the hardest possible situation then work on the easy ones later.  This develops your confidence and speeds things up.”

I was petrified. There were swamps on either side, the levee was quite steep and the crest was narrow. He said, ”Now just turn around. I want you to do the bank robber’s turn in case you ever need to escape from the police or something.”

I pressed on the clutch and he put it in reverse.  He said, “OK, now back up and turn the wheel, then go forwards turning the wheel in the opposite direction.”  This way you only have two changes in direction instead of three if you start by going forward first, which is a sissy or girly way to turn”

The car lurched and started down the levee backwards.  He reached over and slammed on the brake with his left foot.  He said, “OK, all you have to do is put it in first and manipulate the accelerator, brake and clutch with two feet and ease it back up onto the levee.”  Having never touched either of these petals before in my life, much less a stick shift I was having some difficulty.  After about 5 minutes of our 4 legs becoming hopelessly entangled he started yelling. "In! Out! Now! Stop! Start! What are you doing? Watch out! Suddenly the truck lurched again and took off, becoming almost airborne and landed on the opposite side of the levee with the front bumper in the water.  Snotty was hysterical, lying on his back with a huge erection, barking, gasping and wheezing like a mad dog.

He said, “OK that’s enough, you get the general idea.”  He put the parking brake on until he could get behind the wheel and manhandled the truck back onto the levee. Before we got to my grandmother’s we had a flat. We always had a flat when we went anywhere, but fortunately we kept a huge inventory of semi-inflated bald tires in the back of the truck.  Also fortuitously it was in front of a bar.  We went in and three hours later after many games of pool and stories with his cronies, (he seemed to have friends in every bar in the parish) we emerged and he said, “We better get home, Momma’s going to have a fit, but first I am going to show you how to fix a flat.”

The next day I want down to the drivers license department, which was Fatty Candella’s barbershop.  Fatty said, “Do you want a haircut or driver’s license”?  I said "driver’s license" and he said, “Can you drive?” I thought flying over a levee while crying, screaming, getting yelled at with the chorus of Snotty’s snorting probably qualified me and said "Yes, Daddy taught me yesterday on the levee in Plaucheville.”  He said, "I wish I could have seen that.”  Gentle laughter and eye rolling circulated throughout the room.   He said, "Go over to that drawer and get out an application.” He put the scissors down and signed a little card, which he handed me. He said, “Today you get a free haircut because you are a man now.”

I have been driving 50 years, have had a few fender benders and still remember all the lessons my Daddy taught me.