Phillips column 6-15-24: Learning to drive

Some of my first recollections growing up in Nebraska were standing on an old hay wagon holding the reins as Dad walked beside the wagon pulling hay off for the cows. It was a four-wheeled wagon that stood maybe 40 inches off the ground. There was a hay rack on the front and back of the wagon to help keep the hay on the wagon. My Grandpa had one as well that they pulled with mules. Dad was talking to the horses and guiding them with his voice even though I thought I was the real deal and driving the horses. All I was doing was holding the reins.

It wasn’t that many years later Dad would have me stand on the pickup seat and kind of steer the pickup while he was in the pickup bed caking the cows. Dad would get the pickup in granny low and then let it creep along while he got in the pickup bed. All I had to do was just keep the pickup going kind of straight. I didn’t shift gears or step on the clutch or brake or give it gas. I just held the steering wheel.

Sometime when I was pretty little, Dad got rid of the work horses and bought a couple International Cs and a Cub tractor. Dad would get me on the International Cub tractor, stand in front of him and let me drive the little Cub tractor. The Cub was quite a tractor. Dad used the Cub to cultivate in the garden but also to pull the old horse dump rake. Dad also had a 4 ½-foot sickle mower that went on the little Cub tractor that he used to mow around the trees and around the house. It wasn’t long before Dad turned me loose on the Cub all by myself. The first actual work I helped with was raking hay. There was a rope stretching from the rake up to the seat on the tractor that one pulled when it was time to dump the rake.

There wasn’t a lot that one could hurt in one of the meadow pastures. I simply had to learn to drive the cub while dumping the hay in a row so Dad could use the old Jayhawk stacker, gather the hay on the sweep head and then pile up a hay stack. It took a while to learn how to drive with one hand and pull the rope and dump the rake. For a kid it was exciting, but after a few days all the excitement wore off and it became work.

As we got older, we got to drive the pickup around the place going for something like water or gas or whatever. We’d go out at night and hunt a jackrabbit or a coyote. We used the pickup to check the barbed wire fences around Dad’s place. Arthur was pretty rural, so it wasn’t a big deal driving to town for the mail or maybe a part for the mower or rake or something. Later on, one could get a permit to drive to high school. Then in high school, we took Driver’s Education, which was in the sophomore or junior year.

Learning to drive in Arthur County was a lot different than what most of you all experienced. There were only around 6oo people in the whole county, so there were no crowded roads. None! Most of the roads in the county were one-lane roads where you drove two wheels off the road when you met another car. It was 40 miles north to Hyannis, and you might meet half a dozen cars in those 40 miles.

Every county in Nebraska was issued a different number, so Arthur’s counties license plate number was 91. Each family in Arthur County was also issued a particular family number. So a license plate in Arthur for Mom and Dad was 91-94. County number 91 and family number 94. When you met a car with license number 91-94 you knew instantly it was Jess and Goodrun Phillips.

Is it any wonder I hate traffic and crowds!

Phillips began life as a cowboy, then husband and father, carpenter, a minister, gardener and writer. He may be reached at phillipsrb@hotmail.com.