My Austin Healey

61 YEARS AGO, in 1957, I was in Matric & couldn’t wait to get my driver’s license.

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I had been driving since the age of 13, & brushed up on the road rules to be able to do the test on or around my birthday in April. I don’t remember having any books of rules, you just had to know them. The worst part of the test was a notorious handbrake stop on a very steep, almost vertical city intersection. If the car ran back even slightly, you failed the test. Fortunately I had no problem, got my licence and became an avid chauffeur to anyone who wanted to be driven anywhere.

My father was a medical doctor and in those days he treated other doctor’s and their dependent family members free or as they say “pro bono”. He also treated nurses and priests.

One of these the people that he helped was a Mrs Woolrite, who often asked my mother for me to drive her around, especially on weekends. Her husband had been a specialist doctor who, in later life had been responsible for building the local hospital and making it into a top ranking facility. He built his house opposite the entrance to the hospital so he could be on constant call. He had been in the British government and army, serving in the Boer War and on the front during WW1 (1914-1918). He and his wife were upper class British who spoke like the Royal Family!

When I knew Mrs Woolrite, she was in her mid eighties and had been widowed for a good number of years. Her younger brother-in-law, Captain Woolrite, lived with her. He was a retired British Navy Captain who was a few years younger than her. He was very guarded and quite, dressed suitably for the heat in Africa in cream linen suits with Panama hats and had a gold “prince nez” hanging from a chain on his lapel which he used whilst reading. He also had a beautiful walking stick and was responsible for walking the Daschund.

Whenever I fetched her she was always friendly, talkative and curious about a young person like me. She loved to banter.