When I finally received the coveted driver's license, I had already been driving around the farm. However, one day my father said, "Well, get behind the wheel and drive home." That was the entire introduction I had to driving. I knew where the starter was and vaguely where the brake was. So began my first lesson in driving.

Things seemed to go well when I started, a bit jerky but then I encountered a stump. We got out to observe the damage - a bent fender.

That was the end of Lesson No. 1 on a real road.

I had been driving the farm truck since I was 11, carefully straddling the hay windrows after the truck had been put in what was called low-low gear, slower than a walk.

Lessons in driving went on with a bit more communication later. It didn't seem too difficult. But, my father assured me that there was more to having the privilege of driving than just being handed the keys. Thus began an intensive auto care education.

My introduction to tire changing was an extensive lesson in putting a jack under the car in the proper place so that the car would be level while changing the tire. If the ground wasn't level, fix it so the jack was. A car that fell off the jack could be dangerous. Then came the hard task of taking off the nuts, then the tire and finally putting on the spare tire. It had been taken out of the trunk before the operation and placed near the tire to be changed. Putting the nuts back on the hub when the spare was on the wheel was fairly easy, but getting them absolutely tight was another struggle. I explained to my father that I would get them on the tightest I could, drive to a garage and have them check them and put on the hubcap, should the occasion arise. He accepted this.

The next lessons were on oil changing, the number of miles for changing it, the type of oil (always Quaker State) and the proper way to measure the oil. That was before paper towels, and a handy cloth kept in the trunk was the source for wiping the oil stick to obtain an accurate reading. If it was down a quart, add some till it read properly, on the full line on the stick.

When my driver's license was in hand, there were definite additional rules. First, it was my job to always keep the car washed and polished. The wi-ield was to be especially remembered between washings. All this cleanliness was difficult in winter, so the rules were relaxed to only keeping the interior clean.

The second lesson was that putting the car in the garage with an empty gas tank was a no-no. As farmers, we had our own gas pump, so it really was no problem. It was an old fashioned kind that required turning a handle until the indicator hit the top, which meant about five gallons had been put into the car. The gauge was a little rusty, and it became necessary to learn how much the car tank had in it and how much would fill it up.

Being careful to follow all those rules, I was seldom denied the car. The final use did require that I inform my parents where I was going, and I'd better be there if they phoned, and when I would return.

I didn't have my own car. But then, who had much time to use one after fulfilling all the requirements?

T&D Correspondent Bettylou R. Terry can be reached by phone at 803-793-3381. Discuss this and other stories online at TheTandD.com.

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