The first time I got in the left seat, actually, the first time I got in a light a/c, I was 14 and my dad (a former military instrument instructor) was teaching me to fly. I had anticipated getting in and him flying me around showing me the controls and what they do and maybe a few weeks later, after lots of ground study, letting me touch the wheel. Instead, we pre-flight the 152, I get my Cessna diamond, and he tells me to get in....the left seat! He tells me to start it up, and he tells me to give it some gas and taxi it to the runway. Then I almost throw up when he says push the throttle to the firewall and get it off the ground. On the takeoff roll, I'm thinking 14 is way too young to die, he tells me to pull the wheel back and we're off the ground...still alive! After we level off at 3k, me white faced, sweating profusely, death grip on the wheel and throttle, I'm sitting there, afraid to move, expecting to fall out of the sky at any moment. He tells me to take my hands off the wheel. For the first time in my life, I disobey my father and question him (my dad, being a military officer was not used to having his commands to me not instantly obeyed). I'm not about to let go. After a short discussion (that's a polite term for what was really said, unprintable in this forum...) in which I realize that I'm going to die either at his hands or the ground, I let the wheel loose....and to my relief and amazement, the 152 just ticked long at 90 knots, flying as pretty as can be...my dad then said, "see, it will fly itself. What you're going to learn is how not to kill yourself up here..." and from that point on, with all the stalls, spins, short field takeoffs, and situational awareness lessons, that was what he did. And I'm still alive.