I got my driver’s license in the late 1950’s. My family didn’t have a lot of money and we knew that. My dad put me in charge of taking care of the family cars. I learned how to do some of the easier jobs–replacing the generator, carburetor or fuel pump as well as routine maintenance. For problems I couldn’t solve, I took the car to a shop. I learned a lot from talking with the service managers and mechanics. My dad bought a used Buick the year I started high school. It was the newest car we had owned–only 1 year old. I bought the car from him eight years later in my second year of graduate school. It had gone 120,000 miles at this time with no major repairs.
I was expected to be a responsible driver and maintaining the car helped give me a sense of responsibility. Growing up in the country, I had operated equipment in the fields, so I had a sense of what to do when I got a driver’s license. My parents trusted me and I didn’t want to let them down.
I tried to do the same thing with my own son. I trusted him to drive responsibly and he didn’t let me down. He doesn’t have a real interest in mechanical things, so he has never attempted repairs. However, he has never had an accident and he is now in his mid thirties.