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he had been ordered to sea duty on a ship that was headed into the western Pacific for 10 months.
Bob told me, "Sue, you've got to learn how to drive! I'll be gone for ten months and you won't have anyone to take you places. I leave in one month so we need to get you behind the wheel, starting today."

I was terrified! I told Bob I just couldn't do it, I didn't want to learn to drive because I was afraid. Bob was insistent, and I knew he was trying to help me, so I reluctantly agreed to learn to drive. That day at 6pm, Bob drove us to the local Sears parking lot. He got out of the driver's seat, put me behind the wheel of our Ford Maverick, and with great patience and calmness, allowed me to drive around the huge lot. Over and over I drove through the lot, making turns, speeding up, slowing down and backing up. As I got more relaxed, my hands quit shaking, my breathing evened out, and for awhile I thought I was going to be all right. "Now," Bob said in a quiet voice, "Pull out onto the street and let's drive down to the ocean." His words transported me from calmness to intense terror. Once again the heart palpitations returned, my breathing became labored, and my whole body shook. I pulled out on the road and slowly inched my way ten miles to the beach. With every mile my panic attack got worse, and I thought I was going to die. At the end of the journey, I laid my head on Bob's shoulder and sobbed uncontrollably.

I managed to drive every day with Bob gently teaching me the rules of the road, and even though I failed the driving test four times, I finally did get my license. But I never did get over my fear; I just learned ways to avoid the issue; only driving when there was no other alternative. Most of the time my husband or friends did the driving for me, which was fine with me.

I didn't fare well as a navy wife, and after four rocky years, my marriage to Bob ended in divorce, and I remarried the next year. My new husband, Jim, was not as understanding about my phobia as Bob had been. Jim considered it a weakness and made fun of my symptoms, which, of course, made my condition worse. I truly felt ashamed of my phobia.

After we had been married for a year, Jim and I moved to Houston, Texas and tried our best to make our marriage a good one. But, alas, we slowly grew apart and after fifteen years of marriage, we got divorced.

For the first time in my life, I was living alone and needed to rely totally on myself. It became imperative that I overcome my fear of driving.

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