My first lessons were on a desk top (no, not a PC, they didn't exist). If I remember rightly, the first 10 lessons were single stroke rolls at different dynamics & stick heights. There then followed another few lessons on a pillow. I never progressed to a practice pad. I was 12 at the time, & the school didn't have practice pads. Because of this special teacher they employed one morning each week, the school did invest in a pair of fibreglass timpani. So I went from pillow to timpani, then to tubular bells. I only got to play a kit for 15 minutes on my last lesson aged 16. I think I've told this story before, but It's worth repeating in abridged form.
I was taught by an elderly lady called Jean Webster. She was in her 70's when she started teaching me in a class of about 12 pupils. One hour/week, provided by the school. I had a very humble upbringing, & my adopted parents couldn't afford drum lessons, they had enough difficulty affording one pair of shoes each year.
By the time I reached my final year at the school, I was the only pupil left in this weekly one hour class. On my very last lesson, this purely classically trained diminutive old lady (I'm guessing she was under 5 foot tall & weighed under 70lbs) she brought in a drum kit. Not just any old drum kit, but a huge Ludwig kit c/w 26" bass drum, 14" mounted tom, 18" floor tom. She set it up in the middle of the vast school hall, & proceeded to hammer out some of the best rock drumming I've ever heard. Her hand/foot triplets were a joy to behold. Zero effort, minimal stick heights, huge technique, massive sound. My jaw hit the floor. She let me have a go, & I played my first ever money beat. She packed up the kit, said her farewell, & left me with this message - "remember Andrew, keep it simple". A few months later she passed away, & a month after that, I had my first drum kit.