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.
