Hi, I'm Snazzy and I'm Trucker

Me too! Time for the next episode!

 

Welcome Kane and hope you enjoy the tales. Lots of nice folks here. I'm still having some occasional glitches with my puter. Sorry, Attitude I couldn't get my last tale to post. I'm going to see if this post before continuing.

SNazzy1.

 

I called Killer seveal times before riding over to his house. When I got there he was gone, so was his trailer, the garage, and everything esle. Yep, just a large creator that looked like the moon's surface. It took a forensic team two days to idenify his remains. He'd mixed a little too much lye in with his acetone. KABOOM ! Yep, a real final conviction ! His place was so remote that no one knew he'd blown himself up. Folks were use to sonic booms from the military base. So, farewell Killer ! What a deal !

Lt Crap Pants was promoted to Captain, Officer Cry Baby was hired in as a full time Idiot, and I was demoted back to Patrolman. Yep, operation Rope a Doper had been a success. But, I'd had a run in with one of the Officers. I'd been stopped one night while undercover. I was driving the V.W. convertible and the Idiot Officer decided to search it. I protested by shoving the cop down on his butt. I then explained to him what probable cause was. Yes, I had been drinking but I was less than a block from my house. I guess I could of claimed that I was playing the roll of an outlaw biker to protect my cover. The fact was I wanted to whip that cop's butt. I just never did like him. He was arrogant and badge heavy. You know the type. So, Sgt Pope had my wife get me in the house. I didn't know he'd even written me up untill the operation ended. So, back on midnights as a flatfoot. What do you do when your branded but you know your a man......

My wife and I had a big falling out. She had maxed out 22 credit cards, got us a month behind in our mortgage, and spent every penny we had on cheerleading. I took over our finances and realized we needed some extra income immediately. The Walmart never did come through with those high paying security jobs. So, I knew there was a auto transport company that always needed drivers. The old couple were pro police and I had worked a couple of theft cases for them. Thieves had stolen the aluminum ramps from several of their auto transport trailers. Those ramps cost about $ 800 a piece and fetched around $ 200 each as scrap metal. I was able to return some of the ramps because I had arrested two thieves stealing bleacher seats. Yep, right in the middle of the day they were busy as beavers dismantling the aluminum seats from our city park. They still had the stolen car ramps, on thier stolen trailer, as they continued to steal. What a deal !

Let's break and see if this post. Your Snazzy1.

 

I had kept my class A Texas license and back in 1987 that was all that was required to drive a commercial vehicle. CDL's weren't required untill 1992. It was up to the individual states to pass their own CDL laws but they had to conform to the Federal standards. Anyway, when I interviewed for the car hauling job, I never claimed that I was a truck driver. I had mentioned that years back, I'd driven in the oilfields. Old man Blackie was more concerned about when I could start. So, I agreed to do my first run right after my shift ended at 7 am. The next morning I showed up and Mrs Black was waiting in her office. I filled out an application and she put it in her files. She handed me a log book and the keys.

So, I went outside and became a trucker. Well, I didn't know crap ! Luckily the trailer was already loaded and the cabover tractor was hooked up. I walked around the rig and kicked a few tires. I noticed that Mrs black was peeping from behind her office shades. I climbed in and inserted the key. There was this red metal flag hanging down from the sunvisor. I remembered from the old days that it was a device that warned of low air. So, I cranked up the engine and waited. Sure enough a couple of minutes later the flag raised itself up above the windshield.

Now the hard part. I never had driven a single stick transmission. Well, sure in a car. But remember that old rig in the oilfields had been a twin stick. So, I pushed in the clutch and found first gear. I slowly let out on the clutch and headed out. So far, so good ! I steered out of the lot and swung wide to make that right turn. So far, so good ! I then tried to shift to second. All I got was a bunch of grinding. I stopped and restarted, more grinding. So, I put her in nuetral, flipped the little lever up to the high side. Now, all I did was slowly take off in 5 th gear, and floated from there on. Yep, I only used the clutch to stop and start. What a driver !

I got up to the Interstate loop and made my right turn. The back wheels of the trailer went up on the curb. But so far, so good ! I picked up speed and merged in with the traffic. SFSG ! I headed South on the loop and it slowly wound back towards the East. SFSG ! I passed over IH 35 and made it to IH 45. SFSG ! I entered onto IH 45 and headed South. SFSG ! The construction zone sign said single lane ahead. Crap ! My hands were slick with sweat and my heart was racing. I couldn't see out of my mirrors because I hadn't even adjusted them. I put on my turn signals and slowly moved over. The lane kept narrowing and I was fighting the wheel. I kept slowing so as to not run into guard rail to my left or drop off in the construction to my right. I had traffic backed up for 5 miles behind me. I tried to stay focused but it wasn't easy. Finally, the construction zone ended and I swung over into the slow lane. I got lots of one fingered waives as the 4 wheelers jetted by me. SFSG !

I saw the trucks ahead of me pulling into the weigh station. So, I followed them. I really didn't know why I was pulling in, I'd never been into one. Matter of fact I'd seen them for years in my car but I never knew why trucks pulled in them. I guessed they weighed you or something ? So, monkey see, monkey do ! I slowed down and watched the other trucks. They stopped one at a time on this metal doo-hickey,then they drove off. So, I saw the green light was on and pulled up and stopped. Then I waited. Yep, I figured someone would say something thru that speaker that was hanging there. No one said nothing. So, I sat there a minute. Then I remembered that I hadn't turned on that c.b. radio mounted on the dash. I clicked it on and it hummed. It was the old tube type that took a minute to warm up. Then I heard them drivers cussing that parkinglot. Man, they were mad ! Some parkinglot somewhere was holding them up ! Dang, I was trying to figure out what they were talking about.

Then that voice on the speaker spoke, " If you don't get off my scale, I'm going to pull you in for an inspection ! "

I yelled back to the speaker, " So, I'm clear to go ? "

The speaker, " Are you deaf ! "

So, I drove off. It was strange how all them trucks that passed me were mad as hell. Yep, they were screaming on the C.B. about what a jerk I was. I just figured it was best to be safe than sorry. Nothing wrong with working with local law enforcement. I figured that State Officer at the scale was just having a bad day. I did think he was awful slow weighing my truck and he sure could work on his manners. But, hey ! He'd got her done and that's what mattered. I was a little upset with them drivers. Man, they acted like we were in some kind of race. Everybody in a big hurry, rush rush rush. Didn't they know that speed kills ? They needed to slow down and smell the coffee.

Well, I finally made into Houston and found the exit for auto auction. I swung in and about 20 guys ran up all wanting to help me unload. Man, they must pay these guys good. So, I let them. The ramps got pulled out and car after car zoomed off the trailer. Some fella took my paperwork and signed it. So, I slid them ramps back in place and pulled out. The guys that helped me unload were real friendly. They were jumping up and down and waiving at me as I left. I waived back and yanked a blast out of the airhorn. Yep, real nice guys.

I made it back in one piece but the office was closed. So, I dropped the key and paperwork into the office door slot and went home. I felt that it had gone well. Now I wondered how much I'd get paid. Hell, I forgot to ask about that. Anyway, I had got the job done and that was the main thang. What a deal !

Goodnight Snazzers, Snazzy1 out.

 

Snaz
laughed so hard had tears rolling down my cheeks. ######

 

Mrs Black called me at home the next morning she said something about a trip sheet, logs, and fuel receipt. I agreed to go to her office and help her find that stuff. When I got there she futher explained, what she was talking about. I admitted that no trip sheet had been filled out, no log was made, and I hadn't fueled the truck. So she gets all worked up.

" You don't get paid unless that trip sheet is turned in ! That log is your responsibility and it better show legal. I don't care if you drive 50 hours straight ! That log better show you drove no more than 10 hours. Your responsible for fueling that truck and turning in the fuel ticket ! No fuel ticket ? No Pay ! If you as much as stop at a cathouse you'd better get a receipt, if you want me to pay for it ! No receipt ! No Pay ! " Mrs Black continued her tirate, " Another thang ! You don't ever just unload and come back empity ! You call me when your unloaded ! I answer that phone 24 hours a day. There's an extension at my house ! I sleep with that phone ! You don't ever drive a truck here untill you do a pretrip ! I mean you check everything ! Oil level, belts, lights, horn, suspension, brakes, everything ! No inspection ? You pay for the repairs ! Now, wipe that smirk off your face ! "

I quit smirking " Well, I'm sorry. It was my first trip. I guess your mad at me and I sure hate, letting you down. If you give me another chance, I'll do better, I promise. It's been awhile since I was over the road. I guess, I was a little nervous. I didn't want to tell you this, but I've been having trouble at home. Me and my wife are about to split up. We've been together for over 17 years. My oldest girl turns 16 soon and the twins .......boohoo....hoo....

Mrs Black snatched the tissue from the box and rushed to my side. " There, there, Barney. I didn't know. You poor dear. I know what your going thru ! Let's wipe those tears and I'll make us some tea. I didn't mean to upset you and you just didn't know. I'll take care everything and don't you worry ! You have a job here as long as you want ! Now, sit down and I'll fix that tea. We have alot to talk about ! You can trust me and I've been where your at ! We'll work thru this ! "

As Mrs Black fixed our tea I thought back to the movie 'Kool Hand Luke'. The part where the trustee was barking out the rules. Top sheet goes on bottom, bottom sheet gets turned in, clean sheet goes on top. Anyman that turns in the wrong sheet, spends a night in the box. Man, with all these rules about getting paid. Bet, I'll be living in a box.

Let's break, your Snazzy1. P.S., Raindancer, no tears please.

 

My part time job hauling cars was fun. I'd work midnights under Sgt Pope and with Officer Cry Baby. Yep, ole Cry Baby liked me and thought I'd gotten a raw deal being demoted. Ole Baby was a worse patrolman than he was an undercover cop. He'd spend an hour trying to get out of doing something that took 10 minutes. I couldn't count on him or Sgt Pope for backup. Pope spent most of his time preaching to the two reserves that were assigned our shift. The new reserves were getting younger and younger. Yep, Chief E.T. began recruiting from the local junior college. These guys were jokes and had seen to many 1-Adam-12 reruns. It made things interesting but most them guys still lived at home. They had no street smarts at all and it showed. I was kind of an outcast with all the new hires. I was known as a rebel without a cause. I'd still make some good felony arrest every once in a while. But to honest, I was bit burnt out.

One night I was dispatched on a hit and run accident. The fleeing vehicle had smashed into the rear of a stopped car, waiting for a traffic light. The female driver was injured and transported by ambulance from the sceene. I worked the accident and then drove the area looking for the suspect vehicle. About a half mile later I spotted scrapes on the pavement. My experience told me that the suspect was now driving on a bare rim. I shined my spot light to the shoulder and sure enough. Yep, there was the badly torn up tire that had been chewed off the damaged rim. There was fresh anti freeeze on the pavement. Like Tonto I stuck my finger in it and took a taste. Yep, that was anti freeze alright. One of the reserves saw my overheads flashining and pulled up. I explained my therory and suggested that the wanted vehicle was losing coolant. I felt he couldn't of made it far before the car would of overheated and left him stranded. The reserve looked at me like I was nuts. He infomed me that he was late to the prayer service Sgt Pope was having behind the police station. So, he sped off and I continued on the hunt.

The trail led me to a remote lake road and then disappeared into an open field. I radioed out on a signal 51 (investigation call). I took my flashlite and began walking into the darkend field that had waist high weeds. The ground was soft due to some recent rains. I didn't want to get stuck in the field and I bet that suspect vehicle had. It was about 3 am and pitch black. I hadn't walked maybe 200 yards and I heard spanish male voices. Not a spanish speaker myself, I had no idea what was being said. I removed my handheld radio from my gunbelt and requested backup. I gave my location, the best I could. I then squated in the weeds and waited. I kept my flashlite off and my radio volume low. I never got any backup. Yep, squatting in a field and knee deep in whatever ? So, I got up and decided to make my way back. Yep, I'd sneak back to my unit and find out what was up. I mean these guys weren't going anywhere. So, I'm doing kind of a duck walk with my knees bent and using the weeds as cover. I got maybe 50 yards when all hell broke loose.

Automatic weapon's fire sprayed all around me. Bullets whizzed right past head, so I rolled onto my side, and then got into a prone posistion. The shooter reloaded and the spraying continued. I couldn't return fire because I was pend down. I couldn't even see where the shooter was at. No muzzle flashes and the sound echoed all over. So, for the next 5 minutes, that seemed like a life time, I just made myself at home. Finally the shooting stopped and I heard the spanish voices as they disappeared into the night. I slowly raised up and then duck walked back to my patrolcar. I wasn't a happy camper as I screamed obscenities over the car radio. Sgt Pope and his reserve alter boys came screaming up all code three. I was still hot and even now get pee'o'ed thinking back on it. Anyway, we found the abandoned hit and run vehicle, not more that 100 feet from where I'd been fired upon. There were over 60 spent m-16 shells and inside the car we found a full case of m-16 rifles. Yep, these guys had robbed a national guard armory and were armed to the teeth. They managed to slip away before any kind of perimeter could be set up.

I spent the entire morning being interviewed by the F.B.I. and filling out reports. When I left the station I drove straight to Blackies. I had a load of cars that needed to be Shreveport, La. Such is the life of a trucker, as life goes on.

Goodnight Snazzy Ones, the Snazzy1.

 

were you more in danger from the mexicans or Mrs. Black? bet they both try to get you in the dark. lol

 

When I arrived at Blackies, Mrs Black was inspecting my truck. She showed me how to check the oil. Well, I knew how to do that but I didn't know that the old International cabover had a 5' long dipstick. Yep, there was a little lid that lifted up above the grill and you yanked the stick out to check it. It had a spout next to stick that you poured the oil into. She also explained that the diesel engine used gallons of oil not quarts. She showed me where the oil filter, diesel filter, and batteries were located. Then we did a complete pretrip inspection together. I watched and learned, like an eager school boy. She flipped open the logbook and I had logbook 101, right there in her front yard. See, the office and truck yard were right beside her house. She even got in the cab and cranked her up. I admitted that I was having trouble shifting. She demonstrated how to use the single stick. I hadn't been using the hi/lo flipper correctly. After our class she took me inside her office and explained how to fill out the trip sheet. Now, back in 1987 before the computer age there weren't fuel cards. Most fuel and money transactions were done with with comp. checks. They were just like travelers checks but you could transfer funds by telephone. A few large carriers, I'm sure had a more updated system but for 90 % of the drivers that's the way it was.

This was just as trucking was being deregulated. Yep, some the old hands will remember the bingo cards. There was an agency called the Interstate Commerce Commission that regulated all of Interstate trucking. Yep, the way it worked was real complicated. Each region of the country was divided up. So, if you wanted to haul freight, you had to bid or purchase for the trucking rights. The catch was, that say you wanted to haul vegtables from Califorina to New York. The ICC would take bids on that route and actually require that you stay on that route. Now don't get me wrong the largest and richest companies did just fine. The ICC also got to decided what type of freight you were allowed to haul. So, the big boys would purchase the main trucking routes that carried the most popular goods. Then they'd sale off any routes that weren't as profitable or goods that didn't pay as well. Now, get this, the ICC set the rates. Yep, they set the mininum rates per mile based on what type goods and where it was headed. Sounds confusing ? Well, it was. It was nightmare !

In your cab, you had to have an ICC permit card and a bingo card. States weren't allowed to tax freight crossing thru, so they taxed by how many miles your trucks traveled their highways. You'd actually have show proof of buying fuel to satisfy the tax. That still goes on today except it now is done by computer and thru a clearing house each quarter of the year. So, back then to purchase fuel in a state you had to be registered in that state. It sounds silly now but back then each state had little sticky decals that were placed on your door. Yep, little cut out states pasted on so the bears could see you were legal. Each state bear could gawk and see if you had his state piece of the puzzle. If you didn't, you got fined and put out of service untill you did. The bingo cards had little stamps, called fuel stamps. You had to bring your bingo card into the fuel desk. If the fuel attendant didn't see his states stamp on your card. Well, no fuel for you !

Your dispatchers had a book the size of a New York City phone book. When a shipper wanted freight hauled that book was the bible. You couldn't cut rates, couldn't haul freight that you weren't approved for, couldn't run out route, and it was a mess. Now, to some extent household goods are still regulated this way. You have to have a special DOT number, which requires more insurance and larger surety bonds.

The good and the bad of it all. If it had worked right the system wasn't that bad. There weren't price wars and freight wasn't being hauled for peanuts. If say, you lived in an unpopulated area that trucks would avoid. In order to get those juicy hauls, the ICC might require you to service those areas as well. The bad was, it was so regulated you had a ton of paper work. There wasn't as much freedom or competition. The big rich companies had a heck of an advantage, over the smaller owner operators. Cops didn't enforce safety near as much, as they did the complex rules. The average company driver didn't have a clue how to become an owner operator.

I guess deregulation and computers can take credit for changing it all. Now, I will say this. Drivers were a much more, tighter knit group back then. They stuck together and were knight's of the road. There were fewer of them and it was like us against the world. If you broke down the C.B. went crazy. Five trucks would come to your aid and have mercy if any fool ever even tried to harm any of us ! Yep, I'm getting a little teary eyed thinking back about the day. Of course, as always the good memories are the ones that survive the best. There were problems galore and as Life Goes On we'll see some of them.

Let's break, Snazzy1.

 

Howdy Snazzy-Just joined about 10 minutes ago. We are neighbors as I see you live in Granbury. I am between Weatherford and Willow Park. Spent a lot of time acting like a fool trying to golf at Pecan, De Cordova, and all those other courses you got down there. I have other friends in Tolar, Paluxy, etc. Anyway glad to meet you.