Driving Lessons

 

In hindsight, it was quite comical. In the middle of it all, it was anything BUT comical.

I drove to church and pulled into the circle drive. I hopped out of my little, red, 2-door Ford Escort and pushed my seat forward to help “Pauline” out of my backseat.

Pauline, with one hand on the doorframe and the other on the back of my seat, grunted as she attempted to extricate herself from the back of my small Escort.

At almost 6 feet and about 200 pounds, after a few minutes of Pauline’s strength alone attempting to propel her forward out of my car, I offered my hand to help.

I pulled and pulled. After a good deal of laborious and determined pulling, Pauline did not appear to budge at all.

We now drew spectators. People, curious about the contents of my car, began arriving, watching us with a great deal of interest.

Finally, one of the male greeters came over to assist. He replaced me in the front “pulling position”, while I opened the other door and squeezed in the back seat. I began to push from behind, upward and outward, to inch Pauline toward the door.

After a few uncomfortable moments, we succeeded!

As previously mentioned, in hindsight, it was quite comical. But at the time, I felt absolutely mortified that Pauline had been in such a compromising position in front of people arriving for church.

But was it my fault? Pauline had texted me earlier that morning about her need for a ride.

I often taxied people to church.

Pauline was a developmentally challenged woman that lived in housing not too far away from another person I often picked up for church. The problem was not with picking her up, the problem was my 2-door Ford Escort. I had already agreed to pick up “Maggie”, an older, Puerto Rican woman who lived in a senior living apartment.

Now Maggie was a hoot! Although she was ten years my senior, she always wore vibrant colors and was friendly to everyone she met!

I loved how she always gave me a big hug when I pulled up to meet her, and I always enjoyed another big hug when I dropped her off.

Maggie, who had contacted me in advance, would be sitting up front. She was older and had several health issues, so she would be unable to climb into the back seat. If someone needed to sit in the back, it would have to be Pauline.

Pauline’s late request did not allow me time to switch vehicles with my husband’s Sport Utility Vehicle (SUV) before he left. There was nothing else I could do unless I did not give her a ride.

Even though I knew, had I been given advance warning I would have driven the other vehicle, I tried to be helpful in light of her somewhat “delicate” extraction.

I said, “I’ll drive my husband’s SUV after church to drop you off.”

She replied, “Well I would hope so!!”

Lesson One: I need to communicate that any potential passenger needs to give advance notice, or risk being in the least desired seat!

My journey to transporting people to church began when my husband asked me if I could pick up someone and bring them to church. He, the driver of the SUV, and a pastor, needed to be there early. Since I arrived later, it seemed reasonable that I could pick up people on my way.

At first, it was a person here and there. Usually a homeless person, or an older person (like Maggie), or a person in need, who just did not have a car.

Once I began transporting people more often, the more requests for transportation I received.

I was happy to do it though, as I was blessed with a reliable car, and it was a unique serving opportunity.

Then there was “Cheryl”, who was an aged, hard-rocker groupie, who still dressed the part with her black, fringed leather jacket and her bleach-blonde hair with huge fake eyelashes and plenty of mascara. She was a lot of fun, but she had several health issues.

Listening to her stories of being a groupie for old rock bands I was somewhat familiar with, was fascinating.

One morning, it was pouring rain when I stopped to pick her up. She came out with a young man and, while we all stood in the pouring rain, she explained her son needed to be dropped off at work.

“It’s not out of your way,” she informed me.

Now I knew I left enough time to pick her up and then arrive at church on time, but I decided the “nice” thing to do, in light of the pouring rain, would be to go ahead and drop off her son. After all, it was raining!

As I agreed, she then mentioned his bike needed to be stored in my trunk as her son ran to get it. I opened my trunk, feeling the cold rain going down my back as he maneuvered his bike into my trunk.

Unfortunately, it turned out not quite “on the way”, and we were a little late for church…but it was raining…so I brushed it off.

Another time I did not know if Cheryl needed a ride, so I called her to find out. She replied, “Well how else am I supposed to get there?”

I felt taken advantage of, and I felt like it was not my responsibility to check with her to see if she needed a ride. It was her responsibility to tell me when she needed a ride. And I told her that.

I could not imagine how long it would take if I needed to contact every passenger, on every weekend, to find out if they needed a ride, and how many passengers.

Lesson Two: I needed to inform all passengers of their responsibility to notify me of any pickup requests in advance.

 

After about six months, I had several people who would contact me for a ride to church.

Once again, if I knew ahead of time, I would switch vehicles, so I had four doors and more room.

One such time, as I loaded up my three passengers after church, two of them began arguing about who I should drop off first…

I sighed.

As a newbie to the Chicagoland area, and directionally challenged, I had often asked for help in determining the best route for transporting. However, I had been driving long enough, and I felt pretty comfortable plotting out my own route. I thought about it for a few seconds, weighing the opinions of those outspoken passengers in my car.

I decided I would drop off who I wanted to drop off first and drop off last who I wanted longest in my car.

Then, I announced my drop off schedule to those in the car. Not another word was said about it.

Lesson Three: The driver determines the route. This may need to be announced!

 

During my time in Chicagoland, I was asked to pick up some homeless people here and there, and after church they would request to be dropped off somewhere else.

It was seldom the same place because those who were homeless would leave the PADS overnight shelter sites and would want dropped off somewhere they could hang out for the rest of the day.

One time after the service, “Faith”, one of the homeless who attended our church, asked me if I could drop her off in a nearby subdivision.

I was not familiar with that area, but since she was my only passenger that day, I decided to take the opportunity to get to know her better. I decided to go ahead and drive her where she requested.

Faith was a heavy-set woman, with reddish, wild, curly hair. She almost always wore a flowery skirt, with black, sensible shoes. She had a backpack and another big bag that she stowed safely in the trunk of my car.

During the more than 30 minutes of the drive, I learned how she was taking classes at the local community college. She shared how she worked hard to get good grades because it was important to her to not only finish her education but finish well. She said the other students did not know she was homeless.

When we neared the location where she wanted to be dropped off, she pointed out a house, then asked me to turn around and drive her back to a park we had passed.

Confused, but I did as she requested. Then I helped her lift her heavy bags from my trunk. I watched as she stored them safely in some nearby bushes.

She explained that she usually hid her belongings and hung out in the park until it was time for her piano lesson.

“Piano lesson?” I asked.

She explained that she tutored piano, and that was how she earned money. Her next piano student lived in the house she had pointed out to me. She explained, “The student’s parents don’t know I’m homeless”.

Her lesson was not for another hour, however, and I hesitated to leave her there sitting in the cold, fall temperatures.

She insisted she would be fine, as she pulled on her worn brown overcoat. I hugged her goodbye, then I looked back at her sitting silhouetted on a picnic table as I drove away.

I thought a lot about this remarkable woman on the long drive back to my own apartment.

If you had met Faith anywhere, she would have appeared to be just an elderly, heavy-set woman with wild hair and a well-loved, well-worn coat. Without her heavy bags, she would not appear homeless at all—just another “grandma” in her black, sensible shoes out walking around.

And certainly not if you had talked with her about her classes! Or heard her play piano! It was amazing to me that she would be working so hard to do something with her life, when she had so little.

I admired her.

Lesson Four: I could not judge people by their outward appearance. Every passenger in my car had a life story so very different from my own. It was a privilege to drive them and to hear about their lives.

I discovered that people—regardless of their socioeconomic status—are like Forrest Gump’s momma’s insight about life, “like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re going to get.”

Driving people taught me several lessons, but I am glad I took the time to discover the best lesson by getting to know the passengers in my car.

And I am a better person for it!