Stories from a Trucker's daughter

Isn't it crazy how so many of our dads have/had such different occupations. I don't know of very many other trucker's daughters. I am very proud to be a truck driver's daughter (every time I say this that song "Proud to be a Coal Miner's Daughter" goes through my head- dang that Loretta Lynn!) I learned a lot from my dad.

I have a friend whose husband was killed due to some moronic guy who was driving a truck and fell asleep, and used extremely poor driving skills once he realized he had fallen asleep behind the wheel. My friend admitted to be that since the accident, she had a really hard time thinking of my dad as a truck driver. My heart totally went out to her. I explained to her that anyone can get a CDL and crawl behind the wheel of a truck. But, unfortunately, there are very few true truckers out there. You know the ones, they help people who are stranded on the side of the road, they keep their log books up to date, they know all the 2 lane highways in the United States, they refer to police as "smokies", they flash their headlights slowly to let you know it's safe to pull back in front of them, twice quickly to say "thanks", they flash their headlights to let you know there are cops sitting with their radar on, etc. The safety of others and themselves is foremost on their minds. Those are a few things that describe a true trucker, my friends. But, like anything else, it's those bad eggs that spoil the whole darn bunch...and in the process destroy the lives of others.

After the baby shower this weekend, we were sitting around chatting. My cousin CJ brought his girlfriend to meet the family. I was a bit skeptical at first. The others he has brought to meet us....have not been of the highest caliber....that's a polite way to say it. This little girl was adorable. She was intelligent, nice, calm, warm, and seemed normal. Thank goodness! She even sat around to hear stories! We talked about funny things my Granny did with her White Liniment and warm towels, having to lie completely still when we slept with Granny "so we'd grow straight", not being able to talk more than 1 minute after we got in bed with our aunt, Charlsie, etc.

One thing led to another and we told some stories about my dad. I decided to blog about funny stories being a trucker's daughter.

One day a few years ago I was driving home and I saw my dad's truck and trailer sitting loaded in the Atwood's parking lot. It had been quite a while since I'd seen my dad, so I decided to pull over and surprise my dad. Knowing that truckers rarely ever lock the doors on the cab- I got out and opened the driver's door. My dad wasn't sitting there. So, I climbed up to the first step and still didn't see my dad. So, I got in the cab and looked in the sleeper. No dad. I was backing out and I hear foot steps coming up. This man's voice said "Can I help you with something?" It was not my dad's voice. I stammered around and said "Um...I thought this was my dad's truck. I'm so sorry." This man continued to look at me and said "Well, it's not." Dead-pan face. I again apologized and was beginning to sweat. I must have looked on the verge of panic because the guy said "You're Lester's daughter?" I said "Yes. I sure am." He died laughing and told me I was in the right truck. He'd just had to take dad's load someplace because Dad had been asked to take another one of his trucks someplace real quick. Boy! I was relieved. Can you imagine how embarrassing that would have been had it truly been someone else's truck and I totally had climbed on up??