Why Some People Shouldn't Drive:

I remember a happening 'way back when I was a child that seems pretty funny now, but at the time, it was BAD NEWS! My mother was delighted when a neighbor lady, Alice Titus, with delusions of grandeur, decided it was time to gird up her loins and DO SOMETHING about the lack of religious instruction for the families in our neck of the woods. The nearest church of any denomination was many miles distant, and most folks had no means of getting there, so ,,,,yes, Mrs. Titus decided to become a lay minister, and preach a little sermon on Sundays in our schoolhouse. Scripture reading, a few hymns, words of wisdom from whatever sources this indomitable lady could draw upon. My mother was all for this, thinking her children would benefit greatly from the experience ( as undoubtedly they would). But the question, of course, was how to get there? Two miles away, too far to walk with a baby to carry, she could not drive the newly purchased 1930 vehicle that was my father's pride and joy. And he, who felt no need for religious instruction of any kind, was adament about NOT wasting his Sunday afternoons listening to Mrs. Alice Patterson Titus rambling on and on.

So, what to do? In those days, few people had a vehicle beyond the horse and buggy style, so the roads were empty of traffic....a brief lesson on how to start and stop the car, and how to steer it, followed and he decided to trust my mother to take the kids to the Sunday meeting, if that's what she wanted! dang her anyway. So he settled down for his afternoon nap, and we all got to clean up and put on our best bibs and tuckers, and off we went, with just a bit of gear clashing and jerking. Not too bad! Mother was flushed with success when we got to the school yard, remembered how to stop the car, and even to pull on the hand brake before exiting. And we filed into the building in short order, to join the few families who had heeded the call to worship. (Alice Patterson Titus was a very pushy lady, to say the least!).

Well, the "service" went fine, Mother played the school piano somewhat haltingly, we sang the hymns, and joined in the Lord's Prayer, (at least we knew that) and Mrs. Titus performed beyond her wildest dreams. It was soon over, and the congregation was dispersing, as we loaded ourselves into the car, Mother started it, and we were off for home. But for some reason, we weren't making much speed, the car seemed to be just dragging itself along....hopefully, it would straighten itself out, so she kept on a-driving! oh oh, what's this, smoke pouring up in our faces! what can be the matter, this never happened before! is the car about to go on fire? Trembling and anxious, Mother managed to turn the motor off, and there we sat! What to do? A family conference ensued, and Jack, being the fastest runner, was sent off to fetch Father, one and three-quarter miles away. Very worried interlude of probably an hour, in which we all trembled in our boots waiting for Doomsday.

Enter Father and Jack....you wouldn't want to view the rage my Dad was in, (probably why I've remembered this incident all these years). And it got worse when he got in the car and immediately discovered the cause of the problem, Mother had forgotten to release the hand brake. This brought an abrupt end to our church-going by car, I must say, and Mother never ever got behind the wheel of a car again. AMEN!