Dan Kinney, 1960
In the late nineteen fifties I thought Susie Smith was just about the 
cutest girl walking around, and she drove a 1949 yellow Ford convertible.
One night we had a date. She picked me up and asked me if I wanted to drive. Sure, I said, and told her I knew what I was doing. My dad had previously made it clear to me not to drive until I had a driver’s license. I didn’t listen very well and soon paid the price. To make matters worse, I was fifteen and did not even have a learner’s permit.
We were headed south on Madison about a block from my house and I reached in the back to get something. In the process of reaching, I pulled the steering wheel with my left hand and, you guessed it, I ran that yellow Ford into a parked car on the left side of 
the street. Not just any car, but a parked deputy sheriff’s car. Needless to say, all hell broke loose and I was right in the middle of it. I wanted to escape, but not a good idea.
The deputy came out and was meaner than a snake. He reported the accident on his radio while I sat frozen, listening to Susie cry.
Another deputy showed up and also a city cop since the wreck was in the city. Soon, all the neighbors showed up, including my parents. Susie’s parents were notified as the car was in her dad’s name.
One of the neighbors used the term juvenile delinquent, which was overheard by my Dad and he let them know what he thought about them. Mr. Smith arrived and he was not happy! Mrs. Smith was frantic, my Dad was very “pissed,” and my mom was praying. I didn’t say much as I just wanted it to all go away. It was obvious I was not a skillful driver. And that was not my last wreck.
Mrs. Smith drove Susie home and Mr. Smith drove the Ford. I had to stay and get a lecture from the “snake” and receive several traffic tickets. I was also told when to report to traffic school to start learning my lesson.
At first, I thought traffic school was a “hoot,” kind of like Al-A-Non. You state your name and what brought you there. Several in the class laughed out loud when I said I ran into a patrol car and didn’t have a driver’s license. I laughed with them. Big mistake! What we thought was funny did not sit well with Sgt. Elmer Million. He asked me if I thought it was funny and I said yes. It cost me two additional weeks of traffic school and the threat of a suspended license when I became sixteen years old. That didn’t happen. Susie and I were still friends and laughed about the incident later in life.
We were glad no one was injured, “just my pride.” I have retained the same driving skills according to my kids.
The yellow 1949 Ford convertible got repaired and looked as good as ever. I never drove it again.
Sorry, Susie. If you are somewhere recalling our story, I hope you get as many laughs as I did while writing it.
