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Monday, 10 September 2007

Driving Test – More Than Half a Century Ago

By William Weatherstone of The Diesel Gypsy

After running week ends with my stepfather on the bread run, I was still 14 years old. I needed a driver's license pretty bad. He was getting used to me driving for him on the week end trips. It was a miracle that we had not been stopped and checked for anything. Friday nights, after midnight was pretty dead on the highway, usually, and the police patrolling was quite rare.

I tried to get Roy to teach me how to drive a car. I wanted to be ready and practiced up for my road test when it came up. Strange as it may seem, I could pilot a loaded tractor trailer down the highway, but had never driven a car before. Wouldn't that be a sight, some young teenager coming in for his first license test, driving a tractor trailer?

Trying to figure out the shift pattern almost drove me nuts. I had a memory like a sieve anyway, and that did not help things for me. Roy finally got around to telling me it was the same as in the tractor. The shift pattern is always in the "H" formation. You do it OK on the truck; well, the car is the same thing. Just turn the "H" on its side on the car's steering column, and then shift in the "H" pattern as usual.

After he explained it to me that way, it was a snap. I was off to the races. One problem, I was still under age.

By this time I had been ordered by the school principle that my presence was no longer desired. After getting the boot, I tried to get a job, but with no luck. Being truck crazy, I told mom that if I had my license, I would be able to get work. (Dreamer.) I grabbed all the time behind the wheel that I could.

Finally, everyone thought that I was ready. It was suggested that I use Ab's address in Dunbarton, Ontario, because it was easier in a small village than testing in Toronto. I was still under age. I was 15, and for the license you had to be 16. I was big and ugly for my age and could pass for much older.

I was set up for the test. Ab advised me to show up for the test at the village hall at exactly ten minutes before lunch. Not before, nor later than ten minutes before lunch. He stressed that over and over.

I pulled up in front of the ministry at exactly on the planned time. I parked right in front of the office door and went inside. I asked for the test and he gave me a dirty look and said that he was going out for lunch. I responded with, I have borrowed this car and have to return it shortly so as they can go home for their lunch, five miles away. He gave some thought and said, “OK, let’s go.”

He got in the car and as I got the engine started, he said to make a "U" turn and pull into the curb on the other side of the street, and then he would direct me. OK, I made sure that the way was clear, pulled a "U" turn and parked directly across the street. I sat for a moment waiting for instructions, while he was filling out some papers. I said, “Where do we go now?”, and he answered, “I don't know about you, but I am going into this restaurant for my lunch. Here is your license, been nice having you drive me here.”

At that, he got out and went into the restaurant and I drove off into the sunset, fully licensed and still underage. (I had to lie on the form.)

I was now officially 16 years old, because my license said so, and looking forward to a lifetime of trucking. (So I thought.) A friend of the family had me driving a half-ton pick-up truck part time, hauling precious metals - copper, brass, and cast iron - to the scrap yards. It was a lot of work for very little money. Now life had REALLY begun...

Posted by Ronni Bennett at 02:30 AM | Permalink | Email this post