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Word of Mouth

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Who taught you how to drive? What kind of experience was it?

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Published: May 12, 2011

  • I learned to drive through several means, but mostly trial and error. Once he worked up the courage, my father took me over to the parking lot of a nearby mall—at around 6:30 on a Sunday morning when no one was around—and I drove around the parking lot. After gathering still more courage, he allowed me to take the car (a green Plymouth Sundance) on residential streets. Eventually, I took a driver’s ed class. Years later, the Sundance caught fire on the Thruway. No one was hurt, fortunately. It was an old car, but I think it just couldn’t stand the thought of me driving it anymore!

    David J. Hill
    Staff Writer
    University Communications

  • My dad. We had a Volkswagen Beetle, with a stick shift. I was 16 and can remember him encouraging me to practice in the driveway by engaging the clutch and getting it into first gear or reverse without stalling. Fortunately, it was about 60 feet long. That certainly helped me get going when it was time to finally get some serious practice around the block, then on a major street. I dreaded stopping for a red light on an incline with him in the car. You could sit there with your foot on the brake, but the ideal scenario was to gain a balance between the clutch and a light touch on the gas pedal while in first that would allow the car to stand motionless(the goal) before the light turned. Then you just accelerated and drove off. During the entire process, he told me, “if you can drive a stick, you can drive anything.” Both my kids learned on a stick. Sadly, though, standard transmissions have become almost extinct. You can’t beat a car with a stick on snow or ice.

    Mike Jankowski
    Associate Director
    Alumni Relations

  • My father taught me and I went to driver’s ed, but my dad’s teaching was the biggest part of my learning to drive. I remember some scary moments: In driver’s ed, we had this one girl named Erin in the car who was really short—about 4' 9''. We would all take turns and one time she almost got us in an accident—I think the instructor had to grab the wheel. Afterward, I asked Erin what happened and she told me she couldn’t see over the steering wheel! After that experience, I think they gave her an extra phone book or two to prop her up. Another time, I remember my father was teaching me in a parking lot in North Tonawanda when I accidentally hit the accelerator instead of the break—we almost hit a fence. Those were scary moments, but they’re interesting to think about now.

    Damian Dolce
    Resource Manager
    WBFO/University Communications

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