Herb taught me how to drive. It must have been about in 1940 when he decided on Sunday afternoon that I needed to learn how to drive. So we headed out on a narrow dirt road northeast of Canton. It had rained the week before and someone had driven down the middle of the road leaving very deep tracks. The road was basically dry but there were a few muddy spots. There I was trying to learn how to shift (no automatic transmissions in those days), and drive without hitting the ditch or the ruts. Of course I kept falling into the ruts and Herb was getting more frustrated by the minute. When we finally reached the end of what I’d call my longest mile I was more than happy to become a passenger.
The lesson must of took, because some 60+ years later I have been issued only one citation and it was dismissed. Soon after moving to Denver I was driving to work one icy, snowy day when the car slid into a car parked at the curb. As the patrolman was writing my ticket he lost his footing on the ice and ended up under the car. When he told the Judge the story in court he dismissed the case and everyone had a good laugh. To make the story even better he also told him that the snowplow was following me when the accident happened.
from Martha Sundgren