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A Trucker's Life
Creative
 Created on 4-2-07
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As I sit here on this cool October morning, the sweet musty smell of the falling leaves invades my nostrils. In the distance I can hear the soft purr of a diesel engine. And even after all these years it is a sound that floods my mind with fond memories of the greatest truck driver of all time. A man who took pride in his work, who no matter how irritable the customer, still walked away with a smile on his face.
Truck driving is an honorable profession. It's good hard work and lord knows it can pay really well. The man of whom I speak drove truck for almost fifty years before he retired. He drove for one reason and one reason alone, he loved it. I remember the stories of the country he'd seen in all it's glory and splendor. He'd close his eyes and tell us all of far off places that we ourselves had only seen in photographs. With such passion in his voice he'd tell us of the mountains and valleys, the deserts and plains. It was as though we'd been there with him as he saw these places.
Still he had his complaints. His biggest being about the fellow drivers on the road. He took such pride in his work that he simply could not understand the others who would day in and out complain about the job. He'd always say, "If you don't like it, don't do it". I remember him also saying, "Trucks make the world go 'round". He hated one thing about being a truck driver, and that was the lack of respect he got from so many people, who did not see his effect on their lives. That car they drove, the food they ate the very cloths on their back, he, or another had in one point in time transported everything in their lives. Yet so many people thought of him and his profession as low on the totem pole. When in fact without him and his profession where would they be?
He'd wonder if people honestly thought trucks were there just to get in their way. There is so much more to driving than simply pulling a trailer behind a truck. There is always a ton of paperwork; he is 100% responsible for that load he's hauling. There are endless lines of waiting to get loaded or unloaded, there are deadlines and restrictions, and then there are emergencies.
At one point in his career our nation was faced with an emergency. One that effected many lives, even those who were not directly involved. He was at the time of this tragedy in North Carolina when he got a call from his driver manager asking him to deliver a piece of equipment to the city in which the horrific attack had happened. He volunteered his time to help his nation in need. As he drove out of the port in which he had delivered, tears came to his eyes as he saw the workers stop what they were doing o salute he and the others who were there for the same reason. For once in his career there were people who realized and appreciated all he did. He later told me, after many years had passed that, "That one moment in time was worth all the bad customers and ungrateful people I have ever had to deal with".
The only other time his eyes would light up the way they did when he talked about trucking was when he spoke of the love he had for his family. There was never a doubt in anyone's mind that he loved them, but the greatest downfall of being an over the road trucker, is that his home was the road. That house on the hill he bought, the loving wife and three kids, that was his vacation spot. The place where life went on as normal and he only heard tales later on. Still he was a part of their lives because of the love they shared.
He is the man who helped bring me into this world, he gave me life and when I close my eyes I can see him driving that big rig in the sky.
I love you Daddy!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
I was 20 when i wrote this for a trucker's magazine. The story here is a work of fiction with a few nonfiction elements. My dad really is a truck driver and has been for the majority of my life, this is how I see my future and how I will think of him when he is gone. I'd like to take a moment to thank my father and all you truckers who truly do "make the world go 'round".
Truck driving is an honorable profession. It's good hard work and lord knows it can pay really well. The man of whom I speak drove truck for almost fifty years before he retired. He drove for one reason and one reason alone, he loved it. I remember the stories of the country he'd seen in all it's glory and splendor. He'd close his eyes and tell us all of far off places that we ourselves had only seen in photographs. With such passion in his voice he'd tell us of the mountains and valleys, the deserts and plains. It was as though we'd been there with him as he saw these places.
Still he had his complaints. His biggest being about the fellow drivers on the road. He took such pride in his work that he simply could not understand the others who would day in and out complain about the job. He'd always say, "If you don't like it, don't do it". I remember him also saying, "Trucks make the world go 'round". He hated one thing about being a truck driver, and that was the lack of respect he got from so many people, who did not see his effect on their lives. That car they drove, the food they ate the very cloths on their back, he, or another had in one point in time transported everything in their lives. Yet so many people thought of him and his profession as low on the totem pole. When in fact without him and his profession where would they be?
He'd wonder if people honestly thought trucks were there just to get in their way. There is so much more to driving than simply pulling a trailer behind a truck. There is always a ton of paperwork; he is 100% responsible for that load he's hauling. There are endless lines of waiting to get loaded or unloaded, there are deadlines and restrictions, and then there are emergencies.
At one point in his career our nation was faced with an emergency. One that effected many lives, even those who were not directly involved. He was at the time of this tragedy in North Carolina when he got a call from his driver manager asking him to deliver a piece of equipment to the city in which the horrific attack had happened. He volunteered his time to help his nation in need. As he drove out of the port in which he had delivered, tears came to his eyes as he saw the workers stop what they were doing o salute he and the others who were there for the same reason. For once in his career there were people who realized and appreciated all he did. He later told me, after many years had passed that, "That one moment in time was worth all the bad customers and ungrateful people I have ever had to deal with".
The only other time his eyes would light up the way they did when he talked about trucking was when he spoke of the love he had for his family. There was never a doubt in anyone's mind that he loved them, but the greatest downfall of being an over the road trucker, is that his home was the road. That house on the hill he bought, the loving wife and three kids, that was his vacation spot. The place where life went on as normal and he only heard tales later on. Still he was a part of their lives because of the love they shared.
He is the man who helped bring me into this world, he gave me life and when I close my eyes I can see him driving that big rig in the sky.
I love you Daddy!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
I was 20 when i wrote this for a trucker's magazine. The story here is a work of fiction with a few nonfiction elements. My dad really is a truck driver and has been for the majority of my life, this is how I see my future and how I will think of him when he is gone. I'd like to take a moment to thank my father and all you truckers who truly do "make the world go 'round".
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