Of course I wanted to drive a car; I was about to turn sixteen years old. Didn't everybody just everybody want to drive as soon as it was legal?
I showed up at the Motor Vehicle Bureau, on the morning of my sixteenth birthday, to apply for my learner’s permit and obtain the booklet that contained the material on which a written test would be based. I filled out the forms using the name “Frank”, a thoughtless act that would cause me trouble, later.
Now it was time to start bugging my dad to take me out for driving lessons. I have to admit that he was very good about the whole thing he took me out whenever he had the time, and found a place where I could practice without traffic on the weekends. That place happened to be the multi-million dollar County Airport that was being constructed at the time. I drove up and down the half-finished runways learning to accelerate, brake, turn, and reverse. I even learned to parallel park alongside the storm drains that were sticking up about ten inches above the unfinished runway surface (I hit quite a few of them in the process). Eventually, I thought that I was ready for the driving test the written test would be a breeze so we made an appointment.
It just so happened that when I applied for my learner’s permit, there was no law in effect stating that a person had to have proof of automobile liability insurance with them at the time of testing. My dad did have the required insurance, but not the proof of such coverage; we would soon learn that the law had changed.
We, my dad and I, arrived at the testing site on the appointed day, about a quarter hour before the scheduled time for my road test the written test having been passed, easily, some time before. I was anxious, but not overly so… there was plenty of time to be nervous, and little did I know that I would use it all up, and then some. When we finally made it to the head of the line, the examiner, who was a sour looking individual, asked to examine my papers this was at 10 AM, the appointed hour. The first thing that he asked to see was the proof of my father’s liability insurance. “What? What proof”, my dad asked. The examiner informed him that the new law requiring a showing of proof of insurance had just taken effect within the previous two weeks. Dad assured him that this was no problem, we would obtain the proof from the insurance agent’s office, and would return shortly. It seemed like an easy task to me, and it was.
We arrived at the insurance agent’s office a few minutes later, explained the situation to him, got the required proof of liability insurance, and returned to the testing site in less than an hour. We went to the end of the line, and it was about 11:30 AM when we were once again facing the same sour looking examiner. He accepted the insurance card, made a check mark on his form, and began to examine my learner’s permit and birth certificate when he casually asked, “So, who are you… Frank or Francis?” Well, actually, I was Francis because that was the name on my birth certificate although I never used it. I was always known as “Frank”, and I had automatically used that name on my learner’s permit. The examiner said that he wouldn't test me until the names on all the forms were in agreement. I was crushed, and my dad was beginning to look a bit annoyed. I would have thought that he was very annoyed, but I didn't realize at the time that his annoyance limit had not yet been reached that would come later. He just muttered “we'll fix it” and got back into the car.
I had no idea what we could do, but dad assured me that we would get it fixed shortly because the Director of the County Department of Motor Vehicles happened to be a boyhood friend of his. We arrived at the DMV, found dad’s friend, and had the new, matching paperwork completed shortly after noontime. There was no sense going back to be tested then because the examiners would be on their lunch break, so, we went to lunch, too.
We arrived back at the testing at 1:00 PM and found that we were second in line; it was approximately 1:20 PM when the same sour looking examiner approached our car. He looked as if his lunch wasn't sitting well when he asked for my papers. He reviewed them carefully, and, after finding them to be in perfect order, refused to test me, commenting, “Your appointment was for 10 AM, it’s now 1:20 PM… you’re late… make another appointment.” It was at this precise time that my dad’s annoyance limit was finally exceeded.
I should explain here that my father wasn't a light weight he had been a State Policeman for many years and was still in good shape, standing six feet tall and weighing about two hundred and twenty pounds. Now I saw him go all quiet as his face reddened slightly. He walked up very close to the examiner, who was now looking a bit apprehensive as well as sour, and said, in a unmistakably menacing tone, “You'll test the kid… now… and I'll ride along to see that all goes well.” Nothing more was said by either of them, and we all got into the car I was in the driver’s seat, and nervous wouldn't begin to explain how I was feeling. My left leg was actually trembling as I released the clutch to pull out of the parking line.
The driving test was uneventful; I did everything well, passed with flying colors, and had my license within a week’s time. It was child’s play when compared to the preliminaries. So, if you’re looking for a driver who is good under pressure I'm your man.
F.A. Zedik 10-04-00