Light-Hearted Anecdote—The Killer Bee and the 1963 Rambler…Ah! The summer I was sixteen, I learned to drive. I remember the 105 degree Texas sun, the gravel country road, and no air-conditioner. Martha, one of my older sisters, sat bravely in the passenger seat while I navigated down the road, careful to shift gears in our old 1963 Rambler. But the peace was short-lived—in flew a bee the size of King Kong. Well, not that big, but one of those bees that must be at least an inch in diameter. I screamed and closed my eyes. My foot remained firmly on the gas pedal. My total disregard for safety flew out the window, but not the bee. I had no idea where the car was aimed. All I knew was—there was a killer bee in my car.
Fortunately my sister took control—she slid over and pushed her foot to the brake, stopping our blind ride down the road. Thankfully the bee left us at that moment.
Leave a comment on how it was for you when you learned to drive. (o:
Karen Gaus 
Ahhh, killer bee. Soon after I learned to drive my Dad purchased a brand new Dodge sedan and that same day he allowed me to drive it up and down the main street of Hamlin, TX. I was rear-ended by another car. I thought he would be angry but he just asked if I was hurt.
Beth, wrecking my Dad’s car was way up there on my never-ever-let-it-happen list! Glad he was understanding. Great story. (o:
I took drivers’ ed in WI where it’s not as hot as TX, but still hot enough that the behind-the-wheel instructor treated us to a stop at the A&W. The car hop was jealous!
Yes. A&W and the good old days. (o:
I took my driving test (all three times) in my parents’ 1962 Rambler Classic station wagon. Later I bought it from them. Good cars, but you couldn’t have gotten too fast!
Oh. No. A 1962 Rambler station wagon is down on the list with my 1963 on uncool, but it got me there that’s the important thing.
Karen, I did not have such an exciting experience when I was learning to drive! 🙂
Ha. Maybe boring is better in this case. (o:
Well, I learned on an automatic and when it came time to take my test, I had to drive Dad’s stick. Chug chug, clunk clunk, so scared and flustered, I went the wrong way on a one-way street.
LOL. So how many times did you have to take the test? (o:
Learning to drive is the right of passage to almost adulthood. Love your story, Karen. I remember getting my license on my 16th birthday. Ah, those were the days.
Yeah. It’s been a long time but many pleasant memories. (o:
Oh those bees!!! I drove by a sprinkler which nailed my instructor through the open window!
Oh. No. lol. Did your instructor have his/her own brake? Mine did, and he had to use it when I was the driver. /o:
My hair-raising experience was on a deserted country road when a dog decided to chase the car. I slowed way down, and Dad said to keep going, the dog would get out of the way. I ended up getting out of the car and letting Dad drive by the dog. Stupid dog! Of course it moved out of the way, but I couldn’t take that chance. I hate dogs who chase cars.
That was nice of you to be so concerned for the dog. (o: Those things are hard for new drivers.
Karen, I do not know if you remember my dad’s Blue 1955 Chevy truck with 5 peddles on the floor (starter, gas, brake, clutch, and dimmer switch). He taught all 5 of us to drive in this truck that had no air, no radio, no power steering, no safety belts, only one factory made tail light, and we could see the road through the floor board. It now lives on our farm in Virginia and Nelson drives it to the local Drive In during the summer some evenings. The Chevy made the trip from Texas to Virginia in a cattle trailer with only an inch and a half space on the sides, mom stuffed it with pillows. I like your blog girl and I love you.
Great story, Patsy. (o: I love the part about seeing the road through the floor board. lol. Love you too.