Cars

We’ve come a long way in a short time. In less than three generations, we’ve seen automobiles invented and viewed as temporary fads. They became fashionable but out of reach for the masses. They were virtually unavailable because of a nationwide war effort only to rapidly emerge as a viable transportation alternative in a post-war economy. And now it is not uncommon that they often outnumber the number of licensed drivers in a household.

I entered this progression about in the middle as the car was coming into its own after the war. In hindsight, that was probably the most fun.

In the late 1940’s and early 50’s, cars were rapidly becoming commonplace. So common, in fact, that programs were being developed in high schools to teach students to drive correctly Enter my Dad.

In those days, high school football coaches did not just coach. They taught mathematics and physics. They coached track when football was not in season. And, for an additional stipend, they taught driver’s education. When you reflect on it, it seems a little comical. The people teaching students how to drive cars were the ones who were least likely to be able to afford them.

There was usually a car parked in our yard starting in 1949. But it wasn’t ours. It was the Pontiac furnished by W. H. Nelson Motors to the high school. A brand-new Pontiac with an additional clutch and brake installed on the passenger side where the instructor rode. Rather than leave the car unattended on the campus at night, they preferred that the teacher bring it home and assure its safety. They couldn’t have picked a better protector than my Dad.

The idea of using it for personal business would never have occurred to him. It wasn’t our car. And it wouldn’t be the right thing to do. Even when we made the infrequent trips to see my father’s parents in Pelehatchie, MS, we went in a borrowed car and the driver's ed car stayed home in the yard.

There was a single exception, however. My mother, also a teacher, had a hard and fast rule that she would never teach in a school that had one of her children as a student. And when her school aged children occupied all of the schools in which she could have taught in Moss Point, she took a job in Ocean Springs, a distance of about 20 miles from our home. There were two other teachers from Moss Point and Pascagoula who taught in Ocean Springs and she was able to arrange transportation to and from work except for Thursday afternoons. So on Thursdays, the Shields kids had a great adventure. The high school approved the use of the driver’s education car and my dad would drive us all the way to Ocean Springs to pick up Mama. It seemed like a million miles away.

Across the toll bridge in Pascagoula, into Gautier (then not much more than a wide place in the road whose main industry was a truck stop and café with a few small detached cabins in the back called Earl’s Place. I was always fascinated by the fact that Earl’s Place actually openly advertised that it sold beer. No other place that I can think of was so brazen. I can assure you that my father never stopped.). Continuing on Highway 90, it wasn’t far before we came to the train trestle that crossed over the road. It was only about 13 feet in clearance. It’s still there, so I can verify the height. We had our ritual that when passing under the tracks, we must blow the car horn and hear the sound reverberate. Going and coming. Past the turnoff to the Fontainebleau Beach on onto Government Street to the Ocean Springs School. Pick up Mama and reverse the route. No side trips. It wasn’t our car!

The 1950’s brought change. The biggest one was my father leaving the teaching and coaching profession for health reasons and returning to the shipyard. While this was a decision made of necessity and not preference, it was also a decision that provided greater income to the family. And then, in 1952-53, it happened. A family car was purchased. And in 1955 a new one replaced it. We had arrived. And life was changed forever.

Today, children often have their own cars before finishing high school. They get new ones as graduation presents. They know of no other way of living life. They have my pity. I believe that there is no way anyone can appreciate what they have without fully knowing what it is like to not have it. Where is the fun in that? Perhaps that was the reason that I was so enthusiastic when I got my first car. I knew!

That’s the way I remember it.