What 50 years of driving has taught me

50 years ago, I cranked the 4 cylinder, air-cooled engine in the first car I drove and rolled out on the macadam roads of North Georgia. The year was 1967 and I was driving a 1963 Corvair Monza, which I bought using the wages I earned working at the Tastee Freeze in Woodstock, Georgia. I was 15 years old.

I headed for Canton 20 miles north, on the winding, hilly 2 lane roads so I could take my driver's license test. I shifted the 4-speed manual transmission like a NASCAR pro, having thoroughly qualified the skill on the dirt road down from my house on Arnold Mill road. My Mom would watch me pull out of our driveway and motor down a quarter mile to a dirt rod, so I could develop the skills safely and as soon as I was out of her sight, I would gun the motor and run that back road as if I had 10 Federal cars in pursuit.

I knew nothing of Ralph Nadar's book, "Unsafe at any speed", which doomed the Corvair and I did donuts and slid sideways as often as the dirt road would allow. I was learning to drive and in North Georgia at that time, it was a much needed skill. When winter arrived, I was well prepared for the black ice and using a clutch at the top of a hill to negotiate a right turn at a stop sign using all 3 pedals. I was developing skills most Baytownians would be solely lacking under the same circumstances, as this was my Drivers Education.

To date, I have never caused an accident. Maybe this is because I still keep the one car length for every 10 miles per hour rule I learned in the driver's handbook. I still do this, even on the crowded freeways. If people want to jump over in front of me to fill that void and, I let them and I don't get mad. I leave enough space that I don't even have to tap my brakes.

In 1986, my paternal grandfather's passing necessitated I make the drive from Baytown to Atlanta in winter. My brothers and I were allowed to take Bob Bailey's big Olds and we headed East on I-10 into what was heralded as the worst snowstorm in I-10's history. Prior to this, I had spent 2 winters in Montana, while stationed at Malmstrom Air Force Base and had made a trip across the Continental Divide to try and bring back an AWOL Airman. I was driving my personal vehicle, a 1952 International pickup and we went up and over the Divide in deep snow and after not finding the fellow, made the return trip at night again in heavy snow. I was 18 years old.

I still remember coming to a full stop on the top of a mountain and a herd of mule deer walking slowly in front of me and my 24 year old sergeant. He was from Pennsylvania and used to heavy snow, but he didn't feel comfortable enough in those conditions to ask to drive.  On our way to Atlanta, my brothers and I witnessed very many instances of 18-wheeler trucks off the side of the road and many cars, but I kept rolling east until we slid into hilly Atlanta. During our stay there, I taught two of my younger brothers how to drive on ice and snow, as they got their licenses years later in Houston.

What in the world does all of this have to do with us in 2017 and driving in the city limits of Baytown and Harris county? Everything. It's a war zone out there. I hate it and love it. At 65, I have 50 years experience in navigating roads and streets. I admit I am very judgmental, but also surprisingly tolerant at times. If you have a handicap tag or a very gray head, I am forgiving, If you have a cell phone stuck to your face, I am unsympathetic to your lack of awareness. You will get my custom "ah-oo-ga" horn every time. My bride hates this by the way and often blurts, "Please don't!"

I am a very deliberate driver, in that I am a stickler for coming to a complete stop at stop signs and red lights and if you tailgate or try to pressure me by getting on my bumper, you are going to get a very good look at my Vietnam Veteran license plates and a good squirt of my windshield washer fluid as it blows over the top of my Jeep. If you are too close to me, I will slow down, inhibiting your progress. Driving too close to another vehicle is like walking one foot behind someone on a sidewalk. It's very rude and I do not tolerate rude behavior on almost any level. I make no apology for my reaction when operating a moving vehicle.

I think drivers forget that they are actually hurtling through space when driving and forget they are risking their and your life so they can get where they are going. This is why they do everything under the sun when driving. They accelerate to a red light and never think braking is the solution to any situation. Lord help you if you try to pull out in front of them, as they will automatically accelerate to close whatever gap was there. Here we are about to celebrate the birth of Jesus the Christ child and you would think that maybe, just maybe, the spirit of this gift would play into their thoughts.

We have a few days left to be kind to each other before Christmas and then a whole new year to make changes in how we approach the simple act of driving a car and the people around us. How about we start today to be more considerate and slow down? Leave a little earlier and when someone wants to change lanes in front of us, we let off the gas and let them in. Merry Christmas.

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Cold weather? No thanks.

I remember almost freezing to death as a teenager deer hunting in North Georgia.  I was about 15 and I went with my dad and our church’s pastor.  I was good to go the night before, but when the alarm went off at the very ungodly hour of 5am, I tried to talk dad out of taking me.  Nope.  Dad was going to take me dead or alive.  It came dangerously close to the former before 10am

Now I was no stranger to being cold.  I lived in Michigan and Ohio as a kid and it gets as cold as a mother in law’s love in them parts, trust me.  One winter in Hillsdale, Michigan, my dad made an actual igloo out of blocks of snow that stayed for much of the winter.  Our German Sheppard slept on a blanket in it at night.

In Dundee, Michigan, my 3 brothers and I made a near tragic mistake of skating up the Little Raisin, as the wind was at our backs and four hours later, unable to fight the wind to get back, we stepped out on the road about 10 miles from home.  We were near frozen solid and a good Samaritan brought us home.

In 1965, the “Marshall boys”, as we were known, skated out and across the great Ottawa river in Toledo, Ohio.  TJ, brother number 3 got so hypothermic that he lay down on the ice and refused to move.   We were all so cold, we knew that to lay down was to die and somehow we made it back to shore, dragging TJ and crying, walked the 11 blocks, on skates, back to our house.

When I was about 10 or so, my brothers and I followed a teenage boy far out in the woods in Morgan, Utah and came back near death and I say that without exaggeration, as it was about 10 degrees.  The 60 degree water in the tub felt like boiling water.  Now, before you judge my parents, let me say that back in the 1960’s kids were a heartier bunch and the times were different.  Kids spent hours unsupervised out of doors.

For every time something bad happened, fifteens of hundreds of other times, we pulled it off.  Sometimes we didn’t.  My brothers and I spent a lot of time on adventures in the woods and would venture out 4 or 5 miles at a time. I remember squirrel hunting by myself with my shotgun in Georgia 4 miles from home, more than once and I was only 15.

The 2 years I spent in the Strategic Air Command at Malmstrom Air Force base, in Great Falls, Montana was the icicle that broke the polar bear’s back though.  As Louis L’Amour put it in one of his great novels about an American Indian in Siberia, “I haven’t felt cold like this since I was in Montana”.

In the winter in Montana, the sun comes up on the horizon, goes up about a foot, and sets a short time later on the horizon. I hated it.  The wind blows non-stop and even in summer, you have to wear a jacket when the weak sun sets.  To put it in perspective, when I was there in 1971, it snowed on the 4^th of July.

To get back on my Georgia deer hunting occurrence, I wasn’t experienced with sitting on a ground stand in sub-freezing weather, so I did not dress for it.  Instead, I had an orange plastic-type suit that I drew over my jacket and jeans.  It was uncomfortably hot in the car and when dad asked if I had on enough to keep warm, I nodded a sleepy yes.

I slept all the way there in fact and when we got out, I donned the suit.  It was toasty.  I loaded the 16 gauge shotgun with number one buckshot and walked off to find a place to hunt.  There was no such thing as a lease back then and on government land, first come first served.  It was bitterly cold and I did not have gloves and I laid the gun in the crook of my arm and tried to keep warm as the wind picked up.  Each minute that passed, I grew colder.

The weak winter sun finally arrived and I was shaking violently.  I was just an hour into it and I was so cold, all I could think about was how cold I was.  As a son of the generation which fought World War II, I didn’t dare to interrupt our hunt though and besides that, I had no idea where my dad was or our pastor.  By 10am or so, I was beyond caring and stumbling to my feet, I headed back to the car.  Snow was falling and the wind began to abate, but I was so stiff, movement was difficult.  All I wanted to do was get in the car… but it was locked.  I began to cry.

I had reached the place where I was out of options and I did everything in my power, to get the safety off, so I could fire 3 warning shots, which I finally did with frozen unfeeling digits.  I waited what I felt like was a long time and fired 3 more.  This brought both my dad and my pastor and immediately seeing the sad shape I was in, they quickly loaded me up for an emergency trip home.

I just know I disappointed my dad, but he never said anything to confirm it.  What I got out of it was I never want to be that cold again, or disappoint dad.  Unlike being too hot, being too cold is a very painful thing.  Being too hot is uncomfortable.  Thawing out from hypothermia can kill a person.  With all these swings in temperature we are experiencing these days, bundle up.  Take a good hot shower.  Put a coat on.  Stay warm and thank the Good Lord above for the shelter we often take for granted.