Drivers Education

Dad used to tell me about the bet he made with his driver's ed instructor. It was likely one of his first bets and certainly not the last.  Dad's instructor was not impressed with how comfortable dad already was behind the wheel on day one of his instruction and it was obvious dad had already had some unofficial training before driver's ed.  His instructor felt that would make him a little casual and as a result, he bet dad that dad would receive one, if not numerous, traffic citations in his first year.

While dad definitely had the opportunity to get a ticket that first year, he escaped it ticketless. What dad's instructor didn't count on was how much of a charmer dad was. Every time dad was pulled over that year he found a way of talking his way out of it.

"If you give me a ticket officer, my dad will take away this car and I won't have a way of going to college…" 

It worked time and time again. 17 times in fact.

Just as dad had some "unofficial" driver training, so did I. Mine started when I was 14 and he would let me drive when we would go home teaching to visit families in our neighborhood. It was only a few blocks but I lived for those brief periods in the driver's seat. Those quick trips were fun but as I turned 15 and really needed to learn how to drive, my official "unofficial" training with dad began. Our training car turned out to be his company car. If you're going to put a car at risk, it was better to use one that you don't own or pay insurance premiums on. At the time dad was driving a very unimpressive Mercury Sable. It was as if Ford Motor Company took the already bland Ford Taurus and asked "how can we make this more boring?". It was the perfect car to learn in. It was big, safe, and was guaranteed not to attract attention.

One day dad took me for a drive out around west Layton where his Smith's warehouse office was located. On this particular day it had rained so the roads were a little wet. I was confident behind the wheel of the Sable, but didn't fully understand how fresh rain on a road changed this precision driving machine's handling dynamics.  We were heading south on Angel street, just south of Gentile. Those of you that are familiar with the road know there is a bend in Angel that sneaks up on you. I wasn't familiar with Angel and the bend snuck up on me.

We were carrying a little too much speed into the corner when dad asked "Are you going to make this turn?" The tone in his voice was not as much a question as a statement. I realized my error and exaggerated my response. I jerked the wheel hard to the left, cutting the Sable loose on all four wheels. Dad instantly reached from the passenger seat and his arms were on the wheel working the steering back and forth. What was only two or three seconds felt like five minutes. I took my hands off the wheel and let dad pull the car back in line. We skidded to a stop and sat there speechless for four or five seconds.

I said: "Well...I guess I'm done driving for a while."

Dad replied: "No, you need to learn to keep going after something like that happens."

I waited for my heart rate to slow down, put the car in drive, and we drove on. Dad was teaching me something then and I can't help but feel like he's teaching me something now. Thank you Dad for your patience and for making me the best driver in our family.