I was chatting a few weeks ago with Sam Camp and Wally Camp, who are unrelated. Sam suggested I write about old Hawaii driver’s licenses. They remembered ones made of paper that folded and had a place to list the traffic tickets you received.
These “operator’s licenses” allowed the licensee to operate any motor vehicle. Until 1967 the licenses were “lifetime.” Hawaii was the only state that didn’t require regular renewal.
The Honolulu Star-Bulletin said over 1 million Hawaii lifetime licenses existed, but estimated only about 350,000 were still in use. It also found that 27 people who were certified as blind still retained their driver’s licenses.
In 1967 the Legislature required renewing a license every four years. Licenses didn’t have driver photos until 1972. Several readers told me their driver’s licensing stories.
Driver’s license
Tony Saifuku said, “When paper driver’s licenses were replaced with plastic, a local newspaper ran an article about an old Japanese man who came in to get his new license.
“He turned in his old paper license, which was multiple layers of scotch tape with only bits and pieces of the old paper license remaining. He said that he was a fisherman and his license kept falling apart, so he kept adding Scotch tape to keep it together.”
Many teenagers were skillful at forging birth dates on paper licenses. “Before my first trip to Las Vegas, the girls in the office ‘amended’ my birth date so I was able to take advantage of the available ‘recreational activities.’ It was quite easy to do that when the license was paper.
“Additionally, showing a Hawaii license as proof of age at liquor stores in the Midwest would often elicit a conversation with the clerk about their military experience in Hawaii.”
Road test
“I took my road test and passed the day after Christmas 1966,” Fran Bellinger said. “The road test started at HPD’s back entrance on Young Street. We made a right turn at Keeaumoku Street, a right turn at Nehoa Street (making sure the car did not roll back down the hill), made a right turn at Punahou Street and a right turn on Young Street, where we had to parallel-park.
“If one was lucky, the last stall was open, and all you had to do was pull up behind the last parked car.
“I was issued a paper ‘lifetime’ license. It had no photo. Around 1972 I had to convert to a blue-and-white plastic license where numbers and personal information were pressed into the card with a photo.”
‘Tantalus Test of Fire’
“I grew up in the days when cars were big and heavy,” Gere Best said. “They had a clutch, a manual gear shift, no power steering and standard brakes that involved quite a bit of pumping to get the car to stop.
“Mom and Dad were my teachers. The day before my scheduled road test, Mom wanted to prove I was not the driving ace I imagined myself to be. She made me drive up and down Round Top Drive in Tantalus. It was a nightmare.
“Navigating all those hairpin turns, shifting like crazy and grinding the steering wheel to make the turns, along with braking down the steep terrain, totally exhausted me.
“The next day found me excitedly in line to get my driver’s license. I thought I was more than ready to handle the test since I survived the Tantalus Test of Fire. Boy, was I in for a surprise.
“The road test was designed to make the applicant a quivering mass of anxiety and fright.
“Instructions were given in a loud, threatening manner. My feet were quivering on the pedals, and my hands were shaking on the steering wheel.
“I did not want to look at the examiner for fear I’d wilt into a shivering mass. There was a ‘map’ that was followed: very intricate turns involving the coordination of feet and hands to maneuver the challenges on the road.
“We had to drive up the Ward Avenue hill and stop at Prospect Street. When the light turned green, every driving skill had to be put to work: braking, then accelerating without stalling the car, along with trying to maneuver the steering wheel so that I did not hit other cars.
“Somehow I made it. The examiner looked like he wanted to get out of his seat and take over driving just to get this torture, for him, over with.
“Next came parallel parking. I think I made at least 10 attempts, to no avail. The examiner told me to quit, as I had exhausted his patience. I thought that I had flunked.
“But he told me I passed, and did not want to have to ride with me ever again. He turned me loose on the highways and byways of Hawaii. Some 75 years later I am still driving, somewhat skillfully.
“Kids today are so lucky to have air-conditioned small cars, power steering, automatic transmissions and power brakes. Driving back in the 1950s was a real workout, not like today.”
‘Good kid’
Barbara Dittrich said, “When I was 15, in 1967, I went to take my driver’s test at the police station in Wahiawa. I have always looked younger than my age.
“The officer took one look at me and said, ‘Good Lord! How old are you?’ ‘Fifteen,’ I said. Old enough for a learner’s permit. I failed my first try.
“I went back a few weeks later and got a much more laid-back officer. It was a hot day and he was sweating bullets. He just chatted with me and I relaxed and passed.
“I was living with my auntie in Waialua at that time, and she would let me drive, alone, in her old VW bug (stick shift) from Waialua to Ala Moana whenever I wanted.
“Decades later, recalling that, I asked her how on earth she could let me do that! She just said that times were different then and I was a good kid.”
Dyslexic daughter
Lynda Kerwin reminded me that road tests included knowledge of arm signals that had to be done right, out the driver’s-side window. “We had recently arrived from New York, and I was 16 in 1971.
“My dad was an FBI agent and was transferred to Honolulu. Since my dad worked with many police officers, it was a bit embarrassing when I flunked the road test not once or twice, but three times!
“He finally explained to the tester that ‘right’ and ‘left’ were confusing to his dyslexic daughter, but I could think in terms of arm signals, turning ‘up’ (right) and ‘down’ (left).
“Off we went for my fourth and final attempt. I had no idea if I passed until I saw my dad shaking the tester’s hand after he got out of the car! To this day I think ‘turn up’ and ‘turn down’ at intersections!”
Ward Avenue
Arnold Lum was 15 years old in 1961. “It was time to take the road test to get my learner’s permit. Gere Best’s memoir brought back the horror we all knew: turning right at the top of Ward Avenue and Prospect Street.
“First, stand on the brake. Then signal a right turn, push in the clutch, reengage first gear and hang a right.
“The guy who administered my test was the much-feared Sgt. Ah Yat. We had all heard stories about how he’d flunk kids if they screwed up on the Ward Avenue turn.
“Thankfully, Sgt. Ah Yat passed me on, to drive the streets of Honolulu recklessly for many years. But I never had a moving violation. Mahalo, Sgt. Ah Yat.”
‘Apoplectic’
“I got my permanent paper driver’s license with no photo when I was a teenager,” Michael Lilly said. “Then it was off to college, Navy Officer Candidate School and two tours of combat in Vietnam.
“When I returned home in 1970, to register my car, I had to present my driver’s license. The DMV folks were apoplectic, wondering how I had that old paper license.
“It had no expiration, and I had no inkling it was no longer valid. They confiscated it and said I had to apply for a new one. I remember my mother still had her old license from 1929.”
Readers: Do you have a driver’s license story?
Bob Sigall is the author of the five “The Companies We Keep” books. Contact him at [email protected] or sign up for his free email newsletter at RearviewMirrorInsider.com.