Wednesday's Story

This picture was not ours....but it's close.

Our old blue Volkswagen Station Wagon was the funnest car to drive. It was a stick shift and any one that could drive it was really cool. I loved the rattle (some call it a purr) when the gears shifted into position. So smooth. The car smelled like the rubbery smell of an old Volkswagen. Very distinct.

I wanted to be cool and drive that car! So did my younger brother.

I was 14 years old. Freeman was 13 years old.

Dad let us use the car to practice. He wanted us to learn to drive a "stick".

We began the ritual of getting off the school bus each day and racing to see who could get in the drivers seat first. We'd always take turns...but we were each itching to have our hands on that gear shift and put her in to place.

We lived on a farm with a huge field behind our house. We'd take the farm road all the way around the field and back home again. That was our practice. We'd go 'round and 'round, over and over. Slower. Faster. Stopping. Starting. WEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!

It was like being on a thrill ride. FREEDOM!

Dad was not home one day and we knew we weren't supposed to take the car out when our parents were gone. We did it anyway. Uh Oh. Wrong choice.

On the very back road of the farm I ran the car off the road into the dirt ditch. The two front tires were down inside the ditch. Freeman and I tried to lift the car out. Ha! Of course we couldn't get it out...what were we thinking?

I stayed with the car while Freeman ran home. Luckily our two big brothers were home from work. They came and saved the day. Just like Superman they lifted the car out of the ditch. We were so relieved.

There were a few more dents and scratches on the car...but nothing dad would really notice. After all, the car was old and had suffered much wear and tear.

We told Dad anyway. We thought we'd be in so much trouble. But, he just laughed and asked us if we were hurt. Nope, not a scratch on us, just the car. Dad was alright with that.

"Did you learn what to do so you won't go into the ditch next time?" he asked.

"Yes dad. We know now."

I thought, "hooray, next time means we get to practice some more".

Dad was so cool about it. He really could have laid into us but what good would that have done?

There were many more "next times". But, we never ran the car into the ditch again

Lesson learned.