I can fondly remember trips with Dad and Sam when I was about 15-16 years old, often sitting three abreast, in the old family EJ Holden. The trips were usually out to church for either a prayer meeting or some youth activity and we would sit there listening to Dad tell his stories. Sometimes, Peter Bancroft, who by this time lived up the road from us at, The Gap, would also tag along for the ride. Dad would get utterly engrossed in some tale, usually about either some biblical character or some of his airforce exploits, and the boys sitting along side him on the bench-seat would hang on every word. As Dad waxed lyrical, he would often seem to float off to another place and pretend he was flying his Lancaster rather than steering the old EJ Holden. What was so disconcerting was the way he would tailgate the car in front and I remember Sam and I often spending most of the trip pushing our right legs hard to the floor wishing we had access to the brake peddle. On one occasion, Sam, Peter Bancroft and Dad were in the front seat and the boys were starting to get a bit panicky about Dad’s driving exploits. Peter Bancroft in his dry wit was heard to mutter under his breath “Made in Japan” pretending to read the small print on the car number plate in front.
