LICENSED AND READY (by AK from "Wheels Within" No 327, January 2007)
A story came to me on our recent annual sojourn to the less cold portion of our fair country, which got me thinking. It seems an elderly gentleman of those far northern parts, Norman, a young 101 year old is not slowing down in his trusty Corolla. "I want to still be driving in a few years' time", he told our local reporter. He applied for his license when testing was a little less rigid (1925) than it is today. Norm had been driving around the family farm when one morning he encountered the local bloke appointed as Testing Officer. "Can you drive?" asked the officer, "Yes", replied Norm and that was that.
So as local bowls clubs are where you find people of mature years I asked the vital question of some, "How did you get your license?". To a person they all agreed that they were glad they did not have to go through the process today, something all of us fully agree with. "Don't ask me" answered Ron, a spry 75 year old. "My old man was the local cop in our small country town and as such would go over to the next town so he could drink. He took me along to drive him home. I was 14 at the time and at 15 he just wrote out my license. Don't tell anybody about that will you," he said. Bill chimed in that he was lucky as he had a good bank job so he went out and bought a new Morris and after driving it around for a while he thought he had better apply in writing for his license. It turned up in due course, in the mail.
George said his first job at 14, in Adelaide, was to clean the local taxi fleet consisting of 1937 to 1939 Chev's, but as no-one would go and get them from the depot down the road the boss said to him "You get 'em but don't bugger any up, or I'll skin you alive". At 16 his boss took him to get his license. George drove semis on that first license up to his retirement. No one ever asked to see his authority.
Thelma, at 4' 10" drove her father's new Ford Mainline Ute to town with the aid of cushions whilst disappearing below the dash to depress the clutch. At 16 her local cop wrote her out a license as he knew she could drive.
So, how easy was it to get your license? Or should that question be "What age are you?".
I could hardly wait for my 17th birthday to arrive. Living in our small country town, my first driving experience was on a little grey Fergie on the local farm where I was installed in the driving seat at age 10 and told to stand on the clutch to halt it while the men loaded hay bails. I progressed to a Chev' Blitz for the same job and then a 1955 Bedford. By 15 I was regularly driving Father's Austin to and from the farm to get the milk. The local policeman, a family friend, regularly warned Father about my driving on public streets, to which Dad would reply "Ah come on Jack, you know the boy can drive", to which I remember the cop replying, "That is not the point".
And so it was, all eager and studied up on the road rules, I turned up with my father and the same policeman, who said "Head out the road son, for Gawd's sake I know you can drive. Do you know your road law?". "Yes", I quietly offered. That was that, my most eagerly awaited goal was reached with no real road test.
My goodness how things have changed.
Copyright AK 2007
