<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cOkay,\u201d my father said, \u201cPush in the clutch, pull out the choke, turn the key, and step on the starter pedal.\u201d\u00a0 When the engine came to life, he had me adjust the choke until the engine was idling smoothly and then continued:\u00a0 \u201cNow put the shift down into first like I showed you.\u00a0 Give it a little gas as you slowly let the clutch up.\u201d\u00a0 I must have been all concentration when it came to the clutch-gas thing because when the truck rolled forward, we went from the little side parking slot on our camp road, straight into a stand of small Tag Alders across the road.\u00a0 \u201cStop!\u201d Dad said a bit forcefully.\u00a0 \u201cNow put it in reverse and go straight back.\u00a0 Okay, now let\u2019s start again and this time don\u2019t forget to steer around the corner.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Thus I was introduced to the mystical art of driving at age 11 at our camp on Huron Bay.\u00a0 The vehicle in question was a 1949 Chevy pick-up dad had bought used from a salvage yard for camp use.\u00a0 Those things were all but indestructible so my little encounter with the brush didn\u2019t damage anything save my pride.\u00a0 It may have been a mistake to get me behind the wheel that early because afterward, I took every opportunity I could to drive around the two rut track that encircled our camp lot.\u00a0 When I got a little older, I became the designated dump driver.\u00a0 The rental cottages on Papin Road used a small valley crossed by a powerline a half mile down the road as their dump.\u00a0 Anytime we had garbage at camp, I volunteered to drive it to the local unofficial landfill (and bear attractor) which was covered and closed a long time ago.\u00a0 I was sad when dad later traded the \u201849 back to the salvage yard for a car radio, but by then, I was in Driver\u2019s Education and on the way to driving legally on the streets, roads, highways, and byways.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The way our Driver\u2019s Ed program was run, we had to take the class portion after school the second semester of my sophomore year.\u00a0 It lasted about six weeks and it strikes me we met four days a week.\u00a0 All of the classroom work was completed before the driving part started.\u00a0 We were assigned to one of the six or so (again, memory is a little fuzzy here) instructors who would guide us through the practical part of the DE program.\u00a0 My instructor that summer was Richard Coombs, a Conservation \/ Science teacher at Marquette Senior High.\u00a0 He would wander across the hall to visit with my General Science 9 teacher, Dick Robinson, during the school year, but I knew very little about him before the first day of class.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The first thing Mr. Coombs did after the introductions were over was to pop the hood on the Ford LTD that would serve as our rolling classroom.\u00a0 He pointed out things he felt we should know like the radiator cap (\u201cI wouldn\u2019t touch that when the car is hot!\u201d), the windshield washer fluid well (\u201cNever let this run dry.\u201d), and the dipstick (\u201cHere is how you check the oil level.\u201d).\u00a0 Next, we ventured to the trunk where he showed us where the spare tire and jack were stored.\u00a0 Mr. Coombs mentioned we would be changing a tire along the way so we would know how to do it, but we never got around to that lesson.\u00a0 I do not remember how many students there were on the first day but he counted us off in groups of four and told my group to hop in the front and back seat.\u00a0 Mr. Coombs took the driver\u2019s seat and then proceeded to drive us around the large parking lot that wrapped around the school – backward.\u00a0 He repeated this with the others until he had taken everyone on a lap in reverse.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0As the other students took their backward tour, the rest of us signed up for driving times that started at 7:00 am and went through early afternoon.\u00a0 I took the 7:00 am slot so it wouldn\u2019t disrupt the rest of my day.\u00a0 Less than an hour after we arrived, he dismissed us and casually mentioned our need to be on time:\u00a0 \u201cIf you aren\u2019t here, we aren\u2019t waiting for you.\u00a0 Driving starts tomorrow morning at 7:00 am SHARP!\u201d\u00a0 After signing up, the list never did come back my way so my three driving companions would remain a mystery until Tuesday morning.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0We arrived the next morning and I found my driving partners were a french horn player from band, a girl I had gone to elementary school with, and another girl I did not recognize.\u00a0 My high school class numbered close to 500 so it was not uncommon to attend school and never get to know all of your classmates.\u00a0 First question:\u00a0 \u201cHow many of you have actually driven a car before?\u201d\u00a0 I raised my hand and in doing so, I became \u2018Mr. First Time to do everything.\u2019\u00a0 To my surprise, none of the other three had so much as put a key in the ignition of a car.\u00a0 \u201cOkay, Parnelly Jones, (the name of a race car driver of the day), you go first,\u201d Mr. Coombs said as he nodded my way.\u00a0 \u201cStart the car and back around the whole parking lot like I did yesterday.\u00a0 You need to be able to drive in both directions, so we will start with reverse.\u201d\u00a0 Oddly enough, we were the only car that spent the first day going backwards, but that is what he wanted.\u00a0 Each of us took our fifteen minutes behind the wheel and day number two was done.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Day three was similar except we were now allowed to drive forward.\u00a0 We went in the same order as we did the previous day.\u00a0 The girl I was not familiar with looked a tad nervous.\u00a0 She compounded her anxiety by clipping one of the traffic cones that marked the corners on the \u2018lanes\u2019 we were supposed to drive.\u00a0 Mr. Coombs was calm about it and told her, \u201cThat is okay.\u00a0 You cut the corner too short, but you only bumped it.\u00a0 You didn\u2019t even kill it.\u201d\u00a0 Then to all of us, he said, \u201cRemember.\u00a0 Always take square corners.\u201d\u00a0 We must have looked confused because he held up his fist to represent a cone and his other hand to act as the car.\u00a0 As he showed us with his hand signals, he explained, \u201cYou get in the middle of an intersection and then make a sharp turn.\u00a0 No cutting corners or rounding them off.\u00a0 Make square corners.\u201d\u00a0 It seemed like an odd way to put it, but I still think about square corners to this day when I am making a turn.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0After two days of being \u2018Mr. First Time\u2019 I was a little surprised when he told the nervous cone brushing girl to drive first on day three.\u00a0 The other two followed suit as we made endless rounds of the parking lot (this time without any cone encounters).\u00a0 Expecting the same routine, Mr. Coombs surprised us again when I completed my first parking lot lab:\u00a0 \u201cStop at the end, signal a right turn and pull out on Fair Avenue.\u00a0 Now make a left turn onto Lincoln.\u201d\u00a0 \u2018Mr. First Time\u2019 was about to be the first to escape the parking lot which was fine with me.\u00a0 We drove north two blocks (my normal walking route to school) and continued to the stop sign by the National Guard Armory where Lincoln made a dead end at the intersection with Wright Street.\u00a0 \u201cTurn left,\u201d he said and as soon as the square corner had been executed, he asked, \u201cDo you see the railroad crossing ahead?\u00a0 Tell me what you are going to do when you get there.\u201d\u00a0 I knew the drill – in those days, these tracks were still being used:\u00a0 \u201cSlow down and look right and then left to see if there is a train coming.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0We learned pretty early on that Mr. Coombs had a sense of humor.\u00a0 He looked into the back seat and asked, \u201cAnd what should he do if he sees a train coming?\u201d\u00a0 A tentative voice asked, \u201cStop?\u201d\u00a0 \u201cYes,\u201d he said, \u201cBecause if he doesn\u2019t I am getting out and you are all going to die.\u201d\u00a0 Once we got past the tracks (without seeing any real or imaginary trains), he quized me on where we should look if it was night time and cars were coming at us with headlights on (\u201cTo the side of the road and not directly at the headlights.\u201d).\u00a0 Again, addressing the back seat, he inquired, \u201cAnd why do you not look directly at the oncoming lights?\u201d\u00a0 A more definite answer came from the back, \u201cSo we won\u2019t get night blind.\u201d\u00a0 By now we were almost to the US 41 \/ Wright Street intersection so he had me pull into a gravel driveway, back out, and reverse course back to the school.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0So it went for the next six weeks.\u00a0 After that day, we rotated who drove first and there wasn\u2019t a neighborhood or side of town that we didn\u2019t visit.\u00a0 It was a strange summer because there was more wet, foggy weather for our early morning sessions than I can remember seeing in many years.\u00a0 Driving in rain and fog never spooked me because we did a lot of it.\u00a0 As the first couple of weeks rolled by, I thought my \u2018Mr. First Time\u2019 designation had worn off, but I was wrong.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0In the late 1960s, Marquette turned Third Street into a one way corridor with traffic flowing north to south between Fair Avenue, through the heart of downtown all the way to Fisher Street.\u00a0 Front Street, a block to the east of Third, became a one way route going the other way from Washington Street back to Fair.\u00a0 Both carried a lot of traffic so naturally, Third Street was the location he picked for us to try our hand at parallel parking.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0We were driving in the left lane just past the turn off to Gravaret Junior High when Mr. Coombs said, \u201cSee that beer truck?\u00a0 Parallel park behind in.\u201d\u00a0 It came up so suddenly there was no time to get nervous:\u00a0 I clicked on the left turn signal, pulled up next to the truck, checked my mirrors and backed into the parking spot.\u201d\u00a0 \u201cHow far do you think you are from the curb?\u201d he asked.\u00a0 I guessed a foot so he had me open the door to check by putting my foot between the curb and the car – one of my feet plus a few inches was the reported measurement.\u00a0 I had somehow nailed parallel parking on the left side of a busy one way street behind a beer truck the first go around.\u00a0 A little luck, a little skill, it really doesn\u2019t matter – this was the only time he had me do it.\u00a0 The french horn player struggled the first couple of times he tried it and finally said, \u201cI think I will only park in places where I can drive straight into a spot,\u201d which caused Mr. Coombs no shortage of zingers everytime a parking attempt went south.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0My last \u2018Mr. First Time\u2019 test came when we were driving down the US 41 By-Pass toward Lake Superior.\u00a0 Mr. Coombs asked rhetorically, \u201cHow far do you think it would take us to stop if you locked up the brakes at 65 MPH?\u201d\u00a0 We must have hesitated in coming up with a number because he looked over his shoulder and said, \u201cThere is nobody behind us.\u00a0 Get up to 65 and when I say now, stomp on the brakes.\u201d\u00a0 I did as instructed and after much squealing of tires and the smell of burned rubber, we were at a dead stop on the highway.\u00a0 Looking back at the black tire marks, he said matter of factly, \u201cIt takes about that far to stop.\u00a0 Go ahead, head for Front Street.\u00a0 How did the car feel when the brakes were locked up?\u201d\u00a0 I told him there was a bit of pull to the left.\u00a0 It was another one of those things he had me do that nobody else in our group was asked to repeat.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0My father was a little surprised when I recounted the brake stomping exercise, but he asked me the exact same question:\u00a0 \u201cHow did the car feel when you were skidding to a stop?\u201d\u00a0 He followed up with, \u201cWhat would you have done if it had started to go sideways?\u201d and seemed happy with my response:\u00a0 \u201cEase up on the brake and turn into the skid.\u201d\u00a0 If these cars were sold after Driver\u2019s Ed, it makes me wonder how much wear and tear some of them received at the hands of us novice drivers.\u00a0 I know ours was missing more than a little rubber.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0As the last week approached, we were rescheduled into half hour blocks for our final road test.\u00a0 Rumor had it you would not pass if you didn\u2019t nail parallel parking on the last day.\u00a0 Knowing I had parallel parked all of once and on the opposite side of the street from what one would do on a conventional two way street, I was a little nervous.\u00a0 I showed up at my appointed time and it began much like my first drive off the school parking lot:\u00a0 out to Fair, north on Lincoln to Wright Street.\u00a0 \u201cI am tired of seeing the same old streets so head out on the Big Bay Road,\u201d Mr. Coombs instructed.\u00a0 I complied and we drove out past the Sugar Loaf Mountain parking lot and the road to Wetmore Landing.\u00a0 Just past the dirt road that went off toward Little Presque Isle, we came upon a road crew patching the pavement.\u00a0 He instructed me to make a five point turn and head back to school.\u00a0 \u201cJust don\u2019t tell anyone I didn\u2019t make you parallel park,\u201d he said with a grin on his face.\u00a0 I took this to mean nobody else would have to parallel park either, but he wasn\u2019t going to let a perfectly good tale from the rumor mill be ruined.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0From that point on, I was allowed to drive with a licensed family member on my Temporary Permit.\u00a0 In town it was mostly chauffeuring mom to the grocery store and the highway driving happened when we would head toward camp.\u00a0 They were rebuilding sections of US 41 between Ishpeming and Michigamme so I got plenty of practice in bumper to bumper traffic kicking up clouds of dust.\u00a0 When my birthday arrived, it was straight to the license bureau to take my final road test with someone from the Marquette Department of Motor Vehicles branch.\u00a0 The DMV\u00a0 office in those days was located off US 41 near the current location of the Villa Capri Italian Restaurant.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0With my mother waiting in the lobby, the examiner and I turned west on the highway.\u00a0 He told me to turn right on to Wright Street (and chuckled a bit at how it sounded).\u00a0 He said, \u201cKeep going until you hit Lincoln and make the loop on Washington back to the office.\u00a0 Have you heard any good jokes lately?\u201d\u00a0 When I responded I had not, he spent the rest of our fifteen minute road test telling me a host of jokes – some good, some real groaners.\u00a0 We pulled up to the License Bureau and he handed me my signed slip and said, \u201cGood job, go get your license.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0For the record, it took me a month before I popped the old, \u201cDad, can I use the car?\u201d question.<\/span><\/p>\n Halloween was on a Friday.\u00a0 Jim and I had a double date to go to a dance at the high school.\u00a0 All I was told was, \u201cYou know there will be lots of kids out on your way there, right?\u201d\u00a0 I have to hand it to my folks.\u00a0 It would be another four years before I owned my own car, but I never had to go begging when wheels were needed.\u00a0 Add to that carrying band equipment to jobs, and I put a lot of miles on their vehicles.\u00a0 All they ever expected was for me to gas them up and be responsible.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Perhaps the biggest endorsement of my new driving skills came when I convinced my brother to loan me his MGB. \u00a0 I thought I had hit the jackpot because that was his baby.\u00a0 With the mileage he got, it only took 25 cents to spend an evening cruising around town.\u00a0 It was a good deal because gas only cost 25 cents a gallon back then.\u00a0 The MGB had two bucket seats and a small cargo area behind them so we entertained ourselves picking up hitchhikers when we were cruising with the top down.\u00a0 Most would look puzzled when we pulled over, but very few turned down a ride, even if it meant getting crammed into the cargo hold.\u00a0 I often wondered what Mr. Coombs would have thought if he saw us tooling around in the \u2018B\u2019.<\/span><\/p>\n Top Piece Video – No, I am not bragging – there just isn’t a better driving song than\u00a0Highway Star . . .<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cOkay,\u201d my father said, \u201cPush in the clutch, pull out the choke, turn the key, and step on the starter pedal.\u201d\u00a0 When the engine came to life, he had me adjust the choke until the engine was idling smoothly and then continued:\u00a0 \u201cNow put the shift down into first like I showed you.\u00a0 Give […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[11,8,12,9],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2813","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-education","category-from-the-vaults","category-humor","category-woas"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.woas-fm.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2813","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.woas-fm.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.woas-fm.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.woas-fm.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.woas-fm.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2813"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/www.woas-fm.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2813\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2830,"href":"https:\/\/www.woas-fm.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2813\/revisions\/2830"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.woas-fm.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2813"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.woas-fm.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2813"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.woas-fm.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2813"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}