Folks Of Interest Who taught you to drive and what was the car?

My dad taught me to drive in a 1960 Chevy Brookwood station wagon. 235 and 3-speed. He insisted that I learn to drive a standard transmission car first.


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14 years old. Farmall tractor. 5 speed manual. Individual directional rear brake. Go slow and don’t break anything dad told me.


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Dad - 325W - in the 1929 Model A Coupe that later became a roadster.

 

In 1971 Gym/drivers ed teacher Mr Carlson , brand new 71 ford ltd 4 door from Schalock Ford . Dad took me out a couple times in Moms 68 Impala 9 passenger station wagon , which I took my test in . Ironicly I have owned a 72 ltd convertible for 30 years and would love to find a nice 68 Impala hardtop. Should dust off the convert and celebrate having a license for 47 years in September! Where did the time go! lol Larry

 

My Mom would carry me out on Sunday afternoons to drive her 59'Pontiac Catalina, boy was I wide-Tracking in that thing at 11-12 years old.

 

Dad taught me in his 47 Chevy coupe, I'm not sure how old, I'd guess about 6 or 7. I still have it and I wonder what I should do with it.

 

For some inspiration, check this one out! https://www.jalopyjournal.com/forum/threads/41-chevrolet-coupe-inspiration.1100510/

 

My Dad taught me to drive too.I started driving when I was 12.I took my test in the same car, a 58 chevy Impala.I was born in 1951 you do the math.

 

If the original drive train can be restored as is, I would loose the bumper guards and visor [ a little to low rider for me] add skirts, nice period color paint and interior, wide whites and go! But do something with it! Time is running out for us all. Larry

 

So while my dad taught me how to drive, as noted earlier by Larry to get the insurance discount, I needed to take drivers ed in high school. The class was taught by an English teacher and the on road part was taught by “Coach Malcolm” a huge Gym teacher. Road sessions usually amounted to driving from my home to Dairy Queen a couple of towns over and back. Sometimes coach managed a brief nap along the way. No complaints.

 

My dad turned me loose on our '42 John Deere "H" as soon as I had enough strength to roll the flywheel over to start it... maybe 11 years old. Then moved up to the '47 Dodge half-ton when I was 13 or 14. My mom let me drive their '59 Ford boat on the back roads when I was 14. Could have gotten a school permit at that point but we left Nebraska before I did.

 

Wow, tons of info there I will have to read through that, thanks.

 

i was driving a tractor at 6 a pickup at 9 and a dumptruck at 11 i. think i taught myself to drive.

 

Dad was a "Test Driver" for Ford DPG,......A WWII Combat Veteran, And an all around "fantastic guy" (That I failed to appreciate until I came back to the "world")..... Dad not only taught me to drive the family 57' Ford Custom 300 at 16.... But helped me "keep it between the lines" When civilian life seemed confusing at 23...... I Miss Dad, and I miss that Red and White 1957 Ford Custom 300..... Mostly,....I miss Dad.

 

Learned with my Dad in his '62 Ford, three on the tree at about 12. Took my drivers test in his '65 Galaxie 500 2 door hardtop, 352 four barrel. Take off the air cleaner and it sounded pretty wicked.

 

48 Ford F6 COE, I was eight or nine at the time, dad was on the back throwing hay bales off for the cows, big pasture, nothing to run into, pretty safe place to learn. I had some trouble with the clutch and he had a bit of a time staying upright, but he was very patient. Still have that truck by the way. Although it has not run in a long time.

B

 

1944 Ford GPW, i was 8, my dad who restored the car in 1973 teached me by letting me drive through the woods one summer night after we had barbecued with his buddys.

"2nd gear is enough son"

Same exact car is my daily summer car now.

 

Hello,

When we moved into our first new/old Craftsman House adjacent to the Terminal Island Freeway, it was so much bigger than that old trailer we had been in from 1946 to 48. There was a yard, garage, incinerator, picket fence front yard, etc. It was a whole new world. Behind this house and yard was a block long grassy field butting up to the Terminal Island Freeway. (An elementary school is built on the exact property, today)

Out in front was a wide street and rows of palm trees. When I was 4-5 years old, I used to run down the whole block to meet my dad coming home from work. (the Westside was safe back then…) He would put me on his lap and allow me to steer his big 41 Buick for weeks of “driving” a real car. Then when he purchased a huge, black, 4 door, 49 Buick Roadmaster, the same thing was done daily. Run down, get picked up, steer all the way back to the curbside parking under the giant palm trees.

This went on until 1950, when my mom noticed that I would disappear around 6:45 P.M. each evening for at least 20 minutes. One day she was calling for me and finally saw the big black, 49 Buick roll up to the curb, park evenly with the curb, not scratching those huge whitewalls, and then jump out of the driver’s side door. She immediately “went off” on my dad for allowing me to do such a dangerous thing. (she did not drive a car as yet…)

So, at age 6 years old, I had actually steered a 41 Buick Fastback Sedan and then graduated to a huge 49 Buick Roadmaster for the after work driving, steering, parking lessons.

Jnaki

It wasn’t until 1955 when I borrowed our neighborhood music teacher’s 55 Mercury Hardtop to take some of her piano students for a joy ride in the neighborhood. Yes, we had the keys. Hot wiring came several years later in a 57 Ford hardtop. So, I knew how to steer, knew that the brake pedal stopped and the gas was for going. What else was there to driving for a 11 year old kid?
All of those years of "steering/driving" my dad's big Buicks paid off.

I always assumed that the driving/steering episodes for those early years was the start of my car education. So, thanks dad… but no one actually taught me to drive a car down the street using the gas/brake/mirrors, etc. It just happened to a little kid brave enough to show off to a couple of girls that he could drive a 55 Mercury hardtop. (the “D” was the mode of normal driving, but the girls wanted me to put it in “L.” It made a better noise going fast and slowing down with the rap, rap sound.)

 

Lived on a farm so it was tractor first, then an old international bus and a three stick Mack truck. Who, uncle John and my father I guess. Driving test, 1969 Chevy Kingswood estate wagon, moms daily driver, 427 car. It was cool.

Cliff Ramsdell

 

I graduated from my mini bike to a 91a MAC go cart at about 10. Then Dad taught me to drive in our 1930 model “A” std roadster at 12.

 

My father,1970 Ford LTD

 

Told my Dad I could drive a standard shift when I was 10 so he said go ahead and try and I did, like I was driving all the time. Just from watching Him and my Mom drive.It was my parents 49 Plymouth standard shift. I had an extra key made a few years later and when my folks went to the Drive-in theater in their new 60 Chevy. I would take the Plymouth for rides around the block.
Plymouth with my Mom!
When going for my Drivers License you had to have a certain number of hours on the road with an official instructor. When the instructor picked me up at my house for our last session I asked him where I should drive to. He said go wherever you want you already drive better than me! That was in a 58 Ford also standard shift.

 

'41 Chevy 1/2 ton pickup in the fields on the farm in Oklahoma. My buddy John and I would crank the windshield out, stick our shotguns or .22s out over the hood and go chasing rabbits. Took my road test in that same truck.

 

My next door neighbor bought a flathead Ford for 50 bucks, and we all took turns driving it in the woods till it got wrecked. Then we shot it up with .22 's
We were around 14.
Those were the days.

 

16 in 1964, My Older sister in her 58 Ford, 4 door V-8, auto trans, I had A LOT of miles in this car, (started driving with her at 15, her job required her to travel and I would cut school and go with her) this is the car I took my road test in. I already had a 57 Chevy 210 2 door under construction (at 15 1/2 had bought car without engine/ trans from a neighbor) in her back yard, no garage, still snow on the grass. With the help of friends got it installed/running pretty quick (purchased at my local speed shop/junkyard, engine 348 w/ tri-carbs/3 speed manual) and taught myself how to drive stick shift, in no time at all, speed shifting/drag racing/breaking parts, great memories of car and of my sister, sadly she passed away way to early.

 

I was driving a B John Deere tractor when I was 7. And always watched what others did when they drove vehicles. There was a 46 dodge Pk with a flathead six and three speed in the floor. I would get in it and drive it when nobody was around. I got the clutch to slipping so bad it wouldn't pull in high gear. By the time I was 12 I could drive anything. My dad bought a new 64 chevy truck. 283 stick. The engine was shot(flat cam) pretty soon. He Bought a New 66 galaxie. He worked away took the galaxie. And my mother couldn't drive a stick. So I drove the 64 full time.

 

My grandpa taught me how to drive in his ´79 Opel Rekord when I was about 9 years old in 1985 or so. We went to a harvested corn field and he let me drive in it. I did well until I got brave and stomped on the gas. Back then the old Opel were rear wheel drive and the ground was moist and slippery. I fishtailed into the next best ditch and Granpa told me not to tell anyone, hahahahaha. He was such a great guy.
That´s me at about 3 when I helped him change a tire on my uncle´s VW .

 

Learned to drive in a OT car. Total shitbox, usual 1990’s GM issues. Learned to drive stick in a 1930 Model A.

 

My brother is seven years my senior, a recovering gearhead and the responsible party for my wasted youth, adolescence and adult hood...at least as it relates to all things automotive.

He picked me up after school one spring day, and in an effort to impress his girlfriend a moment of graciousness overwhelmed him and he allowed me to drive his hugger orange 69 SS Camaro. At 12, I had ridden friend's dirt bikes but this was my first time driving a 4 speed car. I loved every second of it, enough so that I have purchased 23 first generation Camaros in my life a ton more second gen F body Camaros and T/As and I still own to this day a near perfect hugger orange 69 SS/RS 396 Camaro. Every time I drive it I am returned to that pretty spring day and a big brother who has cost me a fortune!

 

Out of the clear blue one day when I was 10 years old, my mother had me jump in behind the wheel of my dad's mid-70's Chevy crew cab long-bed dually and we drove around some gravel back roads. At the time, I kept thinking it had to be pretty close to what it was like to drive an 18-wheeler...