I revisited Whidbey Island where I lived briefly in 1968. I was pleased to see that most of the changes were for the better.
The waterfront town of Langley is lively and lovely. We enjoyed a rooftop lunch and did a little shopping.
The old wooden-floor grocery has been remodeled, upscaled, and expanded.
While walking around town I remembered the milestone that took place there. Twice, not just once, I flunked the road portion of my test for a driver's license.
|as it looks today|
While parallel parking in front of the Star Store, I miraculously managed to get into a space. But when I needed to leave the spot I bumped the car behind me: immediate end of test, and no license.
The second time, I was driving my dad's old green Chevy truck with the transmission on the steering column. Going up this hill in second instead of first gear I stalled. Stopping dead in (potential) traffic forced the examiner to frown, fret, and flunk me.
Oh well, there wasn't anywhere on Whidbey I wanted to go back then anyway. And I wouldn't need (and couldn't have) a car when I went to college that fall.
In the intervening forty-six years I eventually earned a driver's license, and Langley transformed itself into a charming village. Some things improve with time!