My Blind Grandpa Driving the Car

Yes when my grandpa was alive, he still drove his car even though he technically was blind. Okay, maybe not completely blind, he saw shapes. He just didn't know what they were.

We lived way out in the country. And everybody drove on the small country roads, regardless of age or sight. Heck me and my brothers use to drive to the store and I was only 12 years old and I was the oldest.

But before we were big enough to touch the gas pedal and see over the steering wheel, we would ride with grandpa to the store. Now we didn't go everyday, just about once every couple of weeks.

If we were outside playing and seen him head to his car, we ask to go along. Both our parents worked and grandma was usually in the garden. Of course grandpa thought he was just as good a babysitter as anybody. At least we never got hurt when we were with him.

I think back with horror of how dangerous that would be in this day and time. I guess in grandpa eyes, he saw good enough to drive. We were young and didn't care. All we thought about was going to the store and getting a RC cola and a moonpie. I myself liked getting a coke and pouring in it a pack of peanuts. Try it sometime, you might like it.

Now grandpa usually made it out of the driveway on to the road most of the time. Sometimes he turned to soon and drove in the small ditch on each side to the driveway. When he got out onto the road, he would run his car off the road. And then he would turn his steering wheel to the left until he felt his right front tire hit on the side of the pavement.

This was how he knew he was on his side of the road. Thank God everybody knew his car, when they seen him coming. They just pulled over and stopped until he passed.

Next to the store was a small church, and they used the same parking lot. As I said before, he could see shape but couldn't tell what they were. He would count the large shapes on the right side of the road. And he knew how many buildings there were on the way to the store. When he counted to the building he knew was the church, he would turn in the parking lot of the church.

Everybody knew he did this and he knew when anybody might be there for church. So nobody ever parked their cars there in case he came to the store that day. He would always park his car so that all he had to do was keep turning his steering wheel to the left to get back on to the road.

When he drove back home, he did the same thing going back counting buildings. And of course he didn't always make the turn back into the driveway. So he would either turn to soon and drive through the small ditch, or not to soon enough and take out the mailbox. He ran it over so many times, that daddy just propped it back up.

Of course grandpa drove so slow, when he occasionally missed a turn. It didn't really damage anything except the mailbox. And the kids in the country like to put firecrackers in the mailboxes, so he couldn't hurt it any worst than they did. We probably could have ran to the store faster than he drove it. We didn't care, we just wanted to go to the store.

Eventually he had to stop driving after he kind of parked a little to close to the house. He didn't actually hit the house, he just kind of let the car roll into it. But by this time we could drive ourselves. Back then if a kid could press the gas and see over the steering wheel, then they could drive.

Grandpa has been gone for many years now, but I will never forget the trips to the store. We never knew what would happen. Anytime I see a mailbox with a few dents in it, I think of my grandpa.