Our first car, a green behemoth of a stationwagon, and my mom, the family's best driver. The car was donated to us from someone in the church, and it was Richard Diggs who taught my dad how to drive. According to Mr. Diggs, my dad did not have the "ability or dexterity" to handle the car well. Everytime was an adventure: running up curbs, driving on sidewalks, and missing pedestrians by inches.

Although my dad did understand English because he had completed two years of college in Vietnam, he seemed unable to access it in pressure situations. When asked to turn left, my father would say "Yes meester Diggs" and turn right.

My dad's first driving test never got off the ground as he backed into a lampost. Fortunately for Mr. Diggs, he had turned down the offer to ride along...

It took my dad five or six tries to finally pass, and to this day we complain about his stiffness and poor driving ability. My dad then taught my mom and unlike my dad, she passed the driving test on her first try. I doubt it was my dad's teaching abilities that she was so successful...