Life Lessons Learned in a Texas Oil Field
My first driving lesson was about to kill me Y my father.
In late high school and early high school, I had a summer job working with my father in the oil fields south of San Antonio. On a slow day, we got into Daddy’s company vehicle (a Dodge) for my first driving lesson.
Collision course
I lost control of the clutch and we hit a collision course with a battery of oil storage tanks. When I panicked, my right leg stiffened; my foot hit the gas to the ground.
It was over; there was not an iota of doubt in my mind about it.
But Dad not panic. He quickly cut off the ignition and turned the wheel just enough to avoid hitting the tanks. We safely enter the soft sandbar of a water hole.
He wasn’t upset; I WAS. I vowed that I would never, ever, ever occupy the driver’s seat again. I’m done … I’m done!
“Jimmy, what is this car doing right now?” he asked patiently, certainly sensing my panic.
“Well, uh, well … nothing, Dad. The car isn’t doing anything right now.”
“That is correct. And it is NOT going to do anything. Unless manufacture something happens, this because it will just stay here until it’s a bunch of rust. “
Learned lessons
We continue the lesson. That day I learned to drive, but I also learned two things that would follow me for life. I learned that Fred Sutton, although not a professional educator, was an excellent teacher. I also learned that knowledge, confidence in one’s abilities, and meaningful relationships (certainly including spiritual relationships) are powerful antidotes to whatever the world may throw at any of us.
I have often thought about how easy it would be for a parent to yell or yell at a son or daughter caught in such a situation, especially when that parent is what’s more terrified. Who could blame them? Most of us have been there. “That would be a pretty natural response.
I think Dad intuitively knew that lecturing me about my driving mistakes would have been useless. True to that thought, he never said another word to me about it. If you thought you had learned that lesson well enough without the need for additional reminders, you were correct.
Over the years, I have tried to follow suit, but not perfectly, by no means. Put another way, this is what I think it means: It is easy to be part of the problem, but it is much better to be part of the solution.
Dad passed away in 1998 after a valiant fight against cancer. Since then, there have been many times when I wished I could get back in that old Dodge for one more lesson from a great teacher.