On the Road with My Dad

My dad is a retired truck driver. Toward the end of his career, he drove over-the-road, but for more than 20 years he delivered supplies to hospitals across Northeast Ohio. He took great pride in his work and won a number of safe-driving awards. To this day, I know what the terms bobtailing, jack-knifing, and cab-over mean, and I knew the rules of driving safely around semis well before I was old enough to apply for my temps.

One summer, when I was 5 or 6, my dad asked if I'd like to go to work with him one day. He didn't have to ask twice! I could hardly wait for the day to arrive. It was one of the few times (aside from Christmas) that I have ever awoken eagerly in the morning. I am not a morning person.

My dad had given me a company t-shirt, navy blue to match his uniform polo, though I wore shorts and tennis shoes to his navy pants and steel-toed boots. The night before, my mom had packed lunches for both of us.

During our commute to the warehouse to pick up his truck, my dad told me what to expect for the day. I already had a pretty good idea because I enjoyed hearing his stories about work and always asked lots of questions. I was looking forward to meeting Pat and Tony, two of his fellow drivers and long-time co-workers, and luckily, it was a beautiful, not-too-hot, sunny day. Perfect for a day on the road.

When we arrived, my dad introduced me to the office staff and the secretary gave me a donut. I munched as we walked through the warehouse, keeping a careful eye out for the cherry-pickers as my dad had warned me.

As we approached the truck, I proudly noticed that my dad's first name was displayed in black, capital letters under the driver's side window of the cab. Pat and Tony had their names on their cabs as well; other drivers who had not been there as long or did not drive regular routes were not given this honor.

After a thorough safety inspection, we were off in the bright white cab with its matching trailer. It was exciting to bounce down the road in such a big vehicle, so high above everyone else's heads. I was amazed to see how my dad manuevered the huge truck along city streets, down the highway and in reverse to back up to the docks.

I have always felt proud of my dad for delivering hospital supplies, things so necessary and important for doctors to use in healing the injured and sick. We probably made 8-10 deliveries that day. I was permitted to stand on the dock and watch the truck being unloaded wherever this task was not accomplished by cherry-pickers. Occassionally I got to hold the clipboard with all of the paperwork that needed to be signed. I felt proud to be "working" with my dad, and I was glad to discover that he encountered many friendly people during the day. All of the dock workers I met were kind and seemed happy to meet me.

My favorite stop was the one that had a cat in residence on the dock. I have a feeling that we stayed longer than necessary so I'd have a chance to meet her;-)

At lunch, we parked the truck under a bridge and ate in the cab. I knew that when I wasn't there, my dad read or did crossword puzzles - in pen, of course - during his lunch. He showed me what all of the different gauges and panel instruments were for, and patiently answered all of my questions.

All deliveries completed, we headed back to the warehouse where the truck would be cleaned and loaded with supplies to be delivered the following day.

I wish I'd had the chance to ride along with my dad again when I was older, and would have been able to remember more. Company policy changed by the time I'd thought to ask and ride-alongs were no longer permitted.

My ride along with my dad was a day I'll never forget. Not only did I have fun, but it was comforting to see first-hand what he did all day. As he talked about work on other occassions, I was able to picture in my mind just what he was talking about.

Hats off to all the truckers out there.