My husband and I shared our truck
until his parents gifted us with their old car.
The only problem was I didn’t know how to drive a stick shift. I was so anxious to learn that I insisted on
having my first lesson the night it arrived.
It was dark and snowy so we drove around the parking lot of a local
shopping center to play it safe.
We only lived a few blocks from the school so
I thought it would be good practice to pick up the kids the next day. Everything was fine until I came to a stop
sign on top of a small hill. School had
just let out and there was a line of traffic behind me. There were no hills in the parking lot the
night before and when I tried to release the clutch to move forward, the car
rolled backwards. I took a deep breath
and tried a second time but it rolled back again to within a few inches of the
car behind me. That driver decided the solution to my problem was to lay on her
horn. Horrified I turned on the
flashers, opened my window and waved the cars around me.
Suddenly a squad car pulled up
behind us with its lights on. The
officer walked over to my window and asked if the car had broken down. I had no idea what to say so I answered
rather shortly that it had not. He said that
I would have to move along then because I was holding up traffic. Choking back tears I told him that I just
could not do that. He seemed shocked as
I just sat there clutching the wheel. The kids had all but melted under the
back seat in humiliation and didn’t say a word. He asked why I couldn’t move
and I was forced to tell him the embarrassing truth, bracing myself for
whatever penalty I would receive for refusing his order. Trying not to laugh he kindly told me how to
use the emergency break to keep from sliding backwards. He waited while I tried it and even blocked
anyone else from going around me until I was safely underway. I never had the
chance to thank him because I had no intention of stopping again until I
reached home, but I will never forget him.
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