Beyond the Byline: Learning how to drive and remembering the rules of the road

WILKES-BARRE — It was early summer of 1966, and my dad asked me if I was ready to learn how to drive.

Was he kidding? Of course I was ready to learn how to drive.

The real question was whether I was able to learn how to drive.

Uhhh, yeah, sure, why not?

So we filed for my learner’s permit and Dad said it was time to give it a shot. He took me to St. Mary’s Cemetery in Plymouth Township, which at the time seemed like an odd place to learn how to drive. But apparently, this was where nervous parents took their children to allow them to get behind the wheel of a two-ton machine with wheels.

Dad pulled into the cemetery, stopped the car and put it in park. He told me to get out and walk around to the driver’s side.

I got in and adjusted the seat. Dad walked me through all the controls and buttons. He told me to “go easy” on the gas and “take it slow.” OK, 15 minutes later, I was ready to drive.

I inched along the road, trying to stay in a straight line, and I negotiated the first turn. When we returned to our starting point, Dad said stop the car, put it in park and turn it off. I followed his instructions perfectly.

We discussed my first lap around the cemetery. Dad said I did “pretty good.” And then he said, “OK, let’s do it again and this time, you can go a little faster.”

The entire first lesson went well, thanks to my dad’s incredible patience.

We would return to the cemetery every evening for a week. Then, on a Sunday afternoon, Dad said it’s time for you to drive on the road.

My mom was not going to accompany us on this drive. She would never have been able to relax with me behind the wheel of our 1964 Plymouth Valiant, navy blue, push button transmission. Mom said she was going to bake and make Sunday dinner and wished us luck. I think the luck was for my dad because she knew it would take a considerable amount of luck for us to return with car and Dad’s nerves intact.

So I took a deep breath and set out, stopping for my first stop sign, which was 25 feet from our home. I took a left down Second Street, a right down Orchard, a left on Shawnee Avenue. Dad said to drive by the Little League field on Wadham Street. I got there and parked the car while Dad went to check the press box.

I needed the time to gather my nerves again. When Dad returned, he told me to head up Main Street to the Narrows (Route 11) and see what happens. When I got to the Narrows — a stretch of road that back in the day was known for cars racing in both directions — I have to admit I was a bit more than nervous. But I made it to the Gateway Shopping Center where Dad said to pull in and stop again.

We returned home a bit later without a scratch on the Valiant, and Dad had not perspired all that much. More importantly, Dad never felt he had to scream.

In a few weeks, Dad took me to the State Police barracks on Wyoming Avenue for my test. I passed the written exam and failed the driving test.

Yep, when the instructor told me to park the car, I hit the curb. Fail!

On the way home, Dad laughed and said it happens to everybody.

I returned to the barracks the following Saturday and passed with flying colors.

I’m told that it takes most people 45 hours of lessons to learn how to drive, plus 22 hours of practicing.

I’m way under on that line.

I also know that learning how to drive is not difficult — the hard part is learning how to co-exist with other drivers in heavy traffic.

Back in the day, Plymouth High School had Mr. Gaise Lacek teach most of us how to drive. He taught us the rules of the road, and he took us in groups of three to drive around Plymouth. Mr. Lacek helped us become better drivers.

Since those days, I have an exemplary driving record.

Don’t feel the need to fact check that.

And one more thing for today’s drivers of all ages — never text while driving.

Also:

Merge into traffic — yield when you see that sign.

Identify road signs and exits.

Navigate toll booths.

Pass and allow to be passed.

Always maintain proper speed; obey speed limits.

Be courteous to others — road rage is not cool.

Keep a safe following distance.

Happy motoring.