My First Day With a Driver’s License

I lived the first 15 years of my life in Weissport, PA, a small town of about 600 people situated along the eastern bank of the Lehigh River in eastern Pennsylvania about 80 miles north of Philadelphia. I went through kindergarten as well as elementary school (grades 1 thru 8) in Weissport before attending high school in Lehighton, the town just across the Lehigh River from Weissport. Weissport had one bank, two barber shops, three churches, one post office where everyone went in person to pick up their mail, and one funeral parlor owned and operated by Jack Mayes (Remember Jack, as his name will come up later in my story). With Weissport being such a small town and since my parents and I had lived there for so long, it’s not an exaggeration to say that we knew almost everyone in town and almost everyone knew us.

It was during December of 1950, just a few months before I turned 16, that my parents bought a house in Lehighton, and it was just before Christmas of that year that we made the move to live in Lehighton. Anticipating my turning 16, my Dad started giving me driving lessons in the spring of 1951. First, I got a Learner’s Permit, required in Pennsylvania at that time, and he would take me out from time to time to teach me the ropes of driving safely and let me practice while he was with me. So, when my birthday arrived, I was well-prepared and ready to take my driving test. I took the test (my Mother went with me for the test because my Dad had to work during the day) and I passed. . .no problem. . .so I was officially cleared to drive on my own with my new temporary license in hand.

After the test, we went back home and my Mother, somewhat cautiously (she was the worrying type) gave me permission to take the car to visit a friend, my first outing with the car totally on my own. While I was gone, our phone rang and when my Mother answered, the voice on the other end said, "Hello, Mrs. Eckhart. This is Jack Mayes. " (Remember Jack, Weissport’s undertaker?) My Mother’s almost immediate thought was, "Oh, my God! The undertaker’s got him already!! "

Well, obviously, it was nothing like that. The undertaker did not have me yet. It turned out that Jack played the trombone and was putting together a dance combo and was calling to see if I would be interested in playing drums in the combo. What a relief for my Mother!

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