The tiny communities of the redwood country in Northern California a century ago had none of the modern conveniences we expect these days, such as a high school within each community. (My stubborn great-grandfather refused to have electricity until sometime after World War II, although that was certainly not the norm.) Roads were sparse, narrow and rough, and horse-drawn wagons far outnumbered automobiles.
But the automobile was on the rise, even in that remote and rugged forest. This is my grandmother (Mormor) Esther's story about how she learned to drive.
(Original photo stolen from these guys)
One day Ruby Patmore came to the ranch as my luncheon guest after which Earl came by to take her home and give her another driving lesson. Well, even though very few cars came by our place at that time, Ruby drove out of our lane and ran smack into a car going by. Luckily, not too much damage was suffered by either car and the occupants were not hurt at all.
However, this alerted my father to the fact that I also might be driving, so he asked me point blank if I was. When I admitted that I'd been driving to school for some time Dad forbade me to do that anymore. He pointed out that I was only fifteen, and also that an accident could take every cent he had.
Therefore I didn't drive a car again until the boyfriend (Carl) got a gear shift car. I couldn't manage the miserable Ford transmission in his former car.
Carl and Esther eventually married, parted only by her death 62 years later. There were a few more Ford transmissions in that 62-year marriage, presumably less miserable than the first.
More of my Mormor's stories are found on the sidebar, under the heading "The Mormor Stories."