Second car I ever drove was my Dad's Jag. His was white and he made the state police wealthy. Once, in a rush to get to an emergency at the hospital a new policeman in town stopped him for speeding. He told the policeman he had forgotten a specific surgical instrument so he'd better add an illegal u-turn and another speeding ticket and took off. The cop tried to follow him into the emergency room. My Dad later saved his life after a shooting telling him, "you better not die you SOB because I did 80 out Central Street to get here." They remained friends until my father's death.
The first car I ever drove was a refurbished WWII Willys Jeep which I promptly drove into a ditch. The third car I ever drove was my parents 1956 Lincoln Mark ii which I backed over a large rock. I wasn't 14 years old yet.
I was told I'd never see 15 if I got behind the wheel again without permission.
