Poge never did drive. He lived in Chicago when he was younger and he always used public transportation. When he moved to Chemung with my parents he always walked or hitchhiked wherever he wanted to go. In those days you could do that, safely. Our village was only 3 miles from Harvard. When he took a job in Woodstock 12 miles away he found that he could pay a person to take passengers to work as long as they had the same shift.
When he went to service and he told people that he couldn’t drive--they wouldn’t believe him. In the Army his nickname was “Rosie”(so they wouldn’t have to use the long Rosenbalm.)
One time during combat an officer said,” Rosie, get in that truck over there and move it.”
He said,”Sir, I don’t know how to drive.”
The officer said,”Rosebalm,every one knows how to drive-- get in that truck and put it in gear and move it,NOW!!!”
Poge reluctantly climbed into the cab, turned the key,put his foot on the clutch and promptly shot into the only tree in the vincinity.
The officer came running over, “Rosenbalm, are you hurt? You really don’t know how to drive. Well, your a hell of a medic,but you sure as hell don’t know how to drive!”
Poge said ,”Yes, sir, I told you I didn’t.”
Poge loved telling his only driving experience.
When Poge was about to retire he ask me if I would teach him how to drive and I told him yes. I took him to get a learners permit and we began. He was obviously nervous but he soon got over that and when ever he was around I would go with and let him drive. He said he would like to buy a car. I told him to decide what he would like and after the first of the year we would get his license and then look around for a car. He died in late 1959 and we never looked for a car. He was so excited about looking for a car ---I think he would done just fine but we never did find out. He just left this world too soon. He was only 45 years old.