i'll never forget the day my dad told me he smoked & not cigarettes. boy was i surprised. LOL he was a very progressive dad indeed. XO we didn't grow up with much (materialistic) but my dad worked hard in a hot factory job every day & got there by riding his bike. if love had a monetary value, we would have been billionaires. i'd take the love he shared with us over all the "other stuff" for sure. we never went without anything. food on table, roof our overheads & clothes on our backs. thank you dad for everything. i love you so very much. until we meet again. RIP
My first experience was in a 1955 Plymouth Savoy, two door, stick with bat wings. Started right in front of our house and drove around the neighborhood...but, it was no big deal because I had already been taking the car for joy rides for about six months and, unbeknownst to me, Dad KNEW!!! How did he know? Well, I was smart enough to realize he would catch me if I didn't put gas in whenever I took it out, but gas only cost 39 cents a gallon, so it was hard to buy just the right amount. Plus, parking the car in exactly the same spot every time was tricky cause I had to shut off the engine and coast the last two-three hundred yards so he wouldn't hear me. Years later, he told me he didn't care as long as I kept putting in MORE Gas than I used!!!
I first learned to drive when I was 10 with wooden blocks under my shoes in the 1953 flatbed Ford hay truck. I was too short to throw bales, so my dad taught me to drive the truck. All right turns and only had to shift into first. I even drove it up the ramp into the barn without hitting anything.
My legitimate driving lesson on real roads came when I was 15 in the 1967 Ford LTD Land Yacht. Two lane blacktop road into the Amish village, I was speeding along at 20mph and a stupid chicken ran out in front. Feathers everywhere. Dad made me take the carcass up to the Amish house and explain to them I had killed their chicken with my devil red car. The old guy who answered the door looked out over my head and I turned just in time to see my dad laughing his butt off. The Amish man did everything he could not to laugh as he took the bird, said "Okay" and closed the door.
What a wonderful story about you and your dad. I think the stories that truly keep our Dads alive in our memories are the ones in which they show their true character. And in his rule bending way, he left a legacy that is indelible. Thank you for sharing that one. And thank you for always bringing insight and levity into our world.
My dad owned a gas station. There were always a few junky cars in the driveway, that were mostly in disrepair. But we had free gas, and at 42 cents per gallon, that was a pretty sweet deal. We started our working years pumping gas, in return for the benefit of that free gas. We learned to drive going up and down our short driveway. We'd all wait at the top of the driveway around dinnertime, and take turns sitting on his lap and steering or riding on the running board.
The day that I received my drivers' license in the mail, the only car in the driveway was an old Kharman Ghia that had to be jump started on a hill, and had headlights held in place by duct tape. As Walt's youngest daughter I was not going to be held back by the fact that I had never driven a stick shift. So I learned that day. Of course I think he was proud of my willingness to try something new, and maybe a bit worried (as he should have been) about his youngest now on the road taking advantage of free gasoline.
Your peace on you and your Dad made me cry. Thanks for sharing and treasuring your memories. Many of us have stashes of phototos and objects from our lost family members. To love. Tami
i'll never forget the day my dad told me he smoked & not cigarettes. boy was i surprised. LOL he was a very progressive dad indeed. XO we didn't grow up with much (materialistic) but my dad worked hard in a hot factory job every day & got there by riding his bike. if love had a monetary value, we would have been billionaires. i'd take the love he shared with us over all the "other stuff" for sure. we never went without anything. food on table, roof our overheads & clothes on our backs. thank you dad for everything. i love you so very much. until we meet again. RIP
Fun story. I will never forget my dad teaching me to drive on a country road in a big red 68 Mercury Monterey. (FYI the first Falcon was in 1930)
My first experience was in a 1955 Plymouth Savoy, two door, stick with bat wings. Started right in front of our house and drove around the neighborhood...but, it was no big deal because I had already been taking the car for joy rides for about six months and, unbeknownst to me, Dad KNEW!!! How did he know? Well, I was smart enough to realize he would catch me if I didn't put gas in whenever I took it out, but gas only cost 39 cents a gallon, so it was hard to buy just the right amount. Plus, parking the car in exactly the same spot every time was tricky cause I had to shut off the engine and coast the last two-three hundred yards so he wouldn't hear me. Years later, he told me he didn't care as long as I kept putting in MORE Gas than I used!!!
I love your stories of the Master Sergeant.
I first learned to drive when I was 10 with wooden blocks under my shoes in the 1953 flatbed Ford hay truck. I was too short to throw bales, so my dad taught me to drive the truck. All right turns and only had to shift into first. I even drove it up the ramp into the barn without hitting anything.
My legitimate driving lesson on real roads came when I was 15 in the 1967 Ford LTD Land Yacht. Two lane blacktop road into the Amish village, I was speeding along at 20mph and a stupid chicken ran out in front. Feathers everywhere. Dad made me take the carcass up to the Amish house and explain to them I had killed their chicken with my devil red car. The old guy who answered the door looked out over my head and I turned just in time to see my dad laughing his butt off. The Amish man did everything he could not to laugh as he took the bird, said "Okay" and closed the door.
David- Help us out here. I want to start a movement for Republicans or former GOP who regret voting for Trump.
Outrage Over Previous Support (OOPS).
GOP => OOPS
What a wonderful story about you and your dad. I think the stories that truly keep our Dads alive in our memories are the ones in which they show their true character. And in his rule bending way, he left a legacy that is indelible. Thank you for sharing that one. And thank you for always bringing insight and levity into our world.
My dad owned a gas station. There were always a few junky cars in the driveway, that were mostly in disrepair. But we had free gas, and at 42 cents per gallon, that was a pretty sweet deal. We started our working years pumping gas, in return for the benefit of that free gas. We learned to drive going up and down our short driveway. We'd all wait at the top of the driveway around dinnertime, and take turns sitting on his lap and steering or riding on the running board.
The day that I received my drivers' license in the mail, the only car in the driveway was an old Kharman Ghia that had to be jump started on a hill, and had headlights held in place by duct tape. As Walt's youngest daughter I was not going to be held back by the fact that I had never driven a stick shift. So I learned that day. Of course I think he was proud of my willingness to try something new, and maybe a bit worried (as he should have been) about his youngest now on the road taking advantage of free gasoline.
Your peace on you and your Dad made me cry. Thanks for sharing and treasuring your memories. Many of us have stashes of phototos and objects from our lost family members. To love. Tami
What a precious treasure you have!
Beautiful! Thank you for sharing.
I’m asking Dad for his stories every time I see him. He often fills in the gaps with imagination I never knew he had, but I love it all.
Cheers to great memories.
Thank you again
😢😄