I've been reading a biography about the post-Presidential years of Dwight Eisenhower, written by his grandson David. When Ike left the White House in 1961 and returned to public life, he discovered that he suddenly was in need of a driver's license. For the previous twenty years, as an Army general and U.S. President, he'd relied on chauffeurs and had no need to drive himself. Now, he found that his key to independence in private life would be to get his driver's license.
"He approached the study of traffic safety brochures with the same grim determination he had used" studying war tactics. The written test was a snap, but the family was concerned about his actual road test. Of course, the state of Pennsylvania wasn't going to deny him a license, no matter how poorly he executed turns and parallel parking. This was the former President and a 5-Star General, for gosh sake. But young David made certain to avoid being his passenger unless the speed limit was 25 miles per hour or under.
"It was a moment of terror" for the Eisenhower family when Ike got his license, according to David. "Granddad took corners sharply, and the squeal of rubber against concrete and gravel roads never ceased to surprise him or unsettle me....every lurch elicited a faint 'damnation,' and every other driver on the road was evaluated" according to the former President's standards.
Alas, when it comes to driving a car, we're all in the same boat.
"He approached the study of traffic safety brochures with the same grim determination he had used" studying war tactics. The written test was a snap, but the family was concerned about his actual road test. Of course, the state of Pennsylvania wasn't going to deny him a license, no matter how poorly he executed turns and parallel parking. This was the former President and a 5-Star General, for gosh sake. But young David made certain to avoid being his passenger unless the speed limit was 25 miles per hour or under.
"It was a moment of terror" for the Eisenhower family when Ike got his license, according to David. "Granddad took corners sharply, and the squeal of rubber against concrete and gravel roads never ceased to surprise him or unsettle me....every lurch elicited a faint 'damnation,' and every other driver on the road was evaluated" according to the former President's standards.
Alas, when it comes to driving a car, we're all in the same boat.
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