Jason Rivenburg (35) was shot and killed in his truck in South Carolina on March 5,2009 in an abandoned gas station that was frequently used as a rest area. From our tragic loss we are hoping to create and pass “Jason’s Law.” The purpose of Jason’s Law is to provide secure areas along our nation’s highways for truck drivers to rest
and/or wait to unload their trucks. Please help us to bring this issue to the attention of our legislators so that we may save another family from enduring such pain. Jason leaves behind his son,(2) his wife,and soon to be delivered twins.
We the undersigned,are requesting that the U.S. Government enact legislation that will protect truck drivers within the United States. We are requesting that truck stops be required to have adequate lighting and cameras and businesses be required to provide a secure common area for them to wait to unload.
It’s 0500, the moon is shining above you in a starry sky as you ease onto the interstate. You bring your rig up to speed, and reach for the CB mike to ask for a bear report. By the days end, you will have dealt with traffic jams, stupid 4-wheelers cutting you off, lumper’s, shippers and receivers, truck stops that aren’t really truck stops any more, the fact that you are going to have a problem finding a parking spot when it is time to stop for the night, and the loneliness that comes from being away from home for days or weeks and your family and friends. You take a shower, go to sleep or wake up in a different city every day.
No one will argue that being a truck driver is anything but a hard life and that it takes the right kind of person to do it and be successful. But is it just a job or is it a life style?
You can watch the sunrise in the east and a few days later, watch it set in the west. You can drive through the national Forrest in the summer and enjoy the beauty of the lush green leaves on the trees. Or you can ride through the painted dessert and marvel at all the rich colors of the land. You can watch the wind blowing through a field of corn or wheat in the mid-west in the morning and be in awe of the massive expanse of the Rocky Mountains in the evening. You can watch the waves crash on a shandy beach as you drive along the coast in your shorts one day and the next watch the snow fall as it gently comes to rest on the hood of your truck as you reach for a heavy coat so you can get out and to fuel it.
Websters defines ”lifestyle” as “the typical way of life of an individual, group, or culture”. By that definition, trucking is a lifestyle. But there is also an attitude and a passion that goes along with it. When I write or tell stories from my experiences of the road and being a truck driver, I call the cab of my truck, “My office with a ever changing view”. For me that is what it is. I have driven an 18 wheeler in all lower 48 states and parts of Canada, Iraq, and Kuwait. (Yes, even in Iraq, I viewed it the same way.)
Yes, being a truck driver is a job, but to do that job, you have to be willing to live a certain lifestyle. All the things I have touched on above are just a small portion of what a truckers life is like on the road. There is so much more to it. For me, it s a passion. Truckers feed America, cloth America, put a roof over America’s head, and when behind the wheel, controlling 80,000 pounds of freight and steel, we hold Americas life in our hands. The decisions we make while doing our “job” can be the deciding factor in someone else’s life. Will daddy or mommy make it home from work today? Will you have milk for your cereal in the morning? Will you have gas for your car so you can get back and forth to work? Will you have the shingles for your house after high winds from a hurricane has ripped them from your roof? Will you have a coat to protect you from the cold in the winter? Will your tree have presents under it for your children on Christmas morning? Will our military have the ships, tanks, hummers and artillery that they need to protect our Country, our freedoms, and the American way of life?
The old saying that “without trucks, America stops” is true, freight trains can only carry it so far. A truck has to get it to the store. Behind the wheel of that truck is a man or woman that is willing to live the nomadic lifestyle that it takes to keep this country’s heart beating. We eat, sleep, breath, and live the roads of America. We miss holidays, birthdays and anniversaries hauling America what they need to survive.
So is trucking just a job, like any other job?
Or is it a way of life…… a lifestyle that means so much more to us and to our Country?
I want to give Chris and Meredeth a BIG pat on the back for standing up and telling it like it is! I don’t really agree with the strike, but I did slow down that day and didn’t drive as fast as I would normally. I don’t have an answer for all this either. But, when people realize that the reason that the cost of their food is going up because our fuel prices are going up, then maybe the common folk will realize they have to stand behind us and help us.
One thing I want to leave ya’ll with. PLEASE understand that our cost of trucking these goods across this great nation have done nothing but gone up while our pay and freight rates have stayed the same. Some of that is due to the big companies that put their trailers on trains and haul it for 80 cents a mile. Part is because the brokers are taking so much off the top.
I love driving a truck. It is not just a job, it is my life and part of who I am. Ask ANY driver that has been out there ruining the twin ribbon of asphalt for as long as I have and they will tell ya the same.
We bring the TV you have sitting in your living room, the bed you sleep in, the clothes on your back and the food in your belly.
I pulled into the Pilot at La Place, LA to grab a bite to eat to go. I was picking up a wide load and needed to get it and get to a truck stop before it got dark. I was standing at the checkout when this woman in the next line picked up her stuff, set it on the counter in front of me and asked the cashier if she would check her out because she was later for work. I was on the phone with Slider and told him to hold on. I then asked her what she thought she was doing? She said, I late for work, I need to get out of here.” I looked at her and told her that I am a truck driver and I have a job to do so she could wait. She looked at me like that didn’t matter. I told her she could wait her turn, that if not for me and the rest of the truck drivers behind me, she wouldn’t have what she had broke in line to check out for. I heard several drivers say, “You go girl” and another say, “That’s right!” I then sat my stuff down as the cashier checked me out. This woman went on mouthing about how she asked me if she could go in front of me. I told her she didn’t, she asked the cashier, not me.As I walked out several driver shook my hand and patted me on the back. Then as I walked to my truck, drivers in three trucks honked their horns and gave me the thumbs up.
After I got back to my truck, a couple of drivers thanked me for what I had said to the lady and the it was nice to see someone stand up to people like that. As I thought about this I wondered how many people would have just stood there, let her break line and not said a word?
OK, I know several of ya’ll have heard about the idiot that hit my truck a few weeks ago. Between trucking and being sick I am just now getting these pictures up. But let me tall you the story first.
I was on my way back from Newport News, VA to Pascagoula, MS. This was my second round and I was a bit on the tired side. I pulled into the Flying J at Latta, SC to grab a real meal for the first time that week. I have been eating out of the cooler in the truck and the deli’s of the truck stops. I pick the parking spot that had plenty of room around it so I wouldn’t have to worry about my truck. I walked inside and went to the ladies room.
When I walked out a man stopped me and asked if I drove a big fancy black Pete. I said, “The one with the red finders pulling the skateboard?” The man said, “yes”. At this time another driver walked up and they both told me that someone had backed into my truck. I said, “your kidding me. I just parked and walked in!” As we walked out to my truck, they told me that the guy tried to driver off, but they got him stopped.
As you can see in the above picture, there are THREE parking spots open on that side on my truck. What you can’t see is that there was also NOTHING in front of my truck. IT WAS A STRAIGHT BACK & ON HIS SIGHT SIDE!! (you can see part of the idiot in the picture above)
The guy walked up to me and started to say he was sorry for hitting my truck. I was angry! I told him that right now it would be better if he went and stood someplace else till I calmed down. He didn’t listen and tried to apologize again. I couldn’t hold it in any longer! I asked him what kind of idiot was he? This was a straight back and there was THREE parking spots open! How in the hell did he hit my truck? What kind of driver was he? How long had he been driving? The other drivers stepped between us. I think they thought I was fixin’ to knock this guy out. But I wasn’t. I know better than that. But I was very angry. I mean, look at the pictures. He didn’t just make a small mistake and get up against my fender, he hit the high beam head light. He REALLY was not paying attention to what he was doing!
While taking pictures and exchanging information this guy asked me if I really had to get his DL information. He went so far as to offer me $100 to NOT take his DL information. I told him that I needed it. He then went on and on about how wanted my boss to call his boss so that they could work something out and not report it. I told him that I would let my boss, Lewis, know, but that it was up to him what he did with it. I went in and got my dinner. I decided that after all that, and being tired that I would just go to bed there for the night and start anew in the morning. After all what else could happen to my truck, so went to bed.
The next morning I got up and took another look at my poor truck. The bumper and the fender were so close to the steer tire that they would rub when I tried to make a turn. So I hauled out my cheater bar and pried them away from the tire. Then I took a look at the lights. the low beam still worked. I picked up all of the broken glass from the ground and inside the high beam light housing. I noticed that the bulb was not broken and wondered if it would work. It did and I was amazed. I drove the truck back to the yard without any other problems and have been in another truck for the last week and a half while the got this mine fixed. I am happy to say that I will get to move back into my truck tomorrow and head back to Newport News, VA for Monday. Man! Am I ready!! Even though all of our trucks are Peterbilts, no one is like the other. Mine only has 87,000 on it and the one I have been in the last week and a half has 198,000. It just isn’t the same!
In 17 years of driving a truck I have heard MANY pick-up lines. Guys can be funny some times when hitting on a gal and I wonder if they really think that line is going to work?! Some of the lines have also been very good, they don’t work, but at least they are original and not corny or stupid.
But I have to tell ya’ll about one I got the other night. I was running south bound on I95 in Virgina with a tanker driver, Bayou Boy. We were having a good time talking and raising our “hate and discontent” on the CB. The miles were passing by and different drivers, from time to time, would chime in and it made it all made for a good ride and a good night.
After stopping for food and fuel at Ruther Glen, Va. we got back on the road. The traffic getting in and out of the truck stops that night was horrible and we got separated by a car hauler while getting out of the truck stop. Once on the big road, I gassed on it and went around the car hauler. Bayou Boy and I started talking again. A few miles down the road I hear this voice come across the radio and tell me that he wants to “scratch my umbilical cord”. I about ran off the road!! Bayou Boy told him that, that sounded nasty! I was still laughing so hard that I couldn’t speak. Several other drivers chimed in with their opinions of the comment and those of ya’ll that are drivers know how it went from there.
It was several mile before I could get a word in. When I did, I told the driver that he really needed to work on his pick-up lines. “That line is just not going to work.” Besides being disgusted at the line, I was laughing to hard to take it seriously. I am not sure if when learning English something got lost in the translation or what, (yes, he was not from the states!), but that is the funniest line about my belly button I have ever heard!
Needless to say, Bayou Boy and I got many laughs out of that line all the way to Mississippi!
As luck would have it, I am hurt and at home. Last Thursday morning I stepped out of my Peterbilt at the TA in Slidell, La. instead of stepping onto solid ground there was a stick just under the step. As I stepped down, with the momentum from being that high up and all my foot rolled. As it rolled I went down and I heard it pop real loud. I was afraid that I had broken it. I got up and tried walking around on it, but it hurt very bad. I crawled back into the truck and rested it for a bit. It was still early, there would be no-one in the office and my load needed to get there, so I drove the 90 miles to where I had to deliver…..through the New Orleans traffic. Using the accelerator was not a problem, that didn’t take much pressure, but stepping to the break hurt like hell, so I use the johnny bar as much as possible. Thank goodness it was my right foot hurt and not my left. I don’t think I would have gotten out of the parking spot if I had had to mash on the clutch.
As I was driving out to Convent, La to deliver my load, I called the office once I knew there was someone there. I told them that I would deliver the load, but that I was not sure that I could walk on the foot. I would call them once I get there and let them know.
One step out of the truck and I knew I was not going to be able to walk on the foot. I was set up to reload right where I delivered, then go to Orange, Tx, then reload in Houston and come back to Gautier, Ms. That was out the window now. I had hoped that I could do all that and go to the doctor on Friday when I get back, but I couldn’t. I hobbled around and got my load unstrapped, using the trailer as support. It was a long and very painful job. As much as I hate to cry, I just couldn’t help myself, it really hurt bad. Every step sent SHARP pains through my foot, ankle and up my leg.
When I called the office and told them, they said for me to drop the trailer and bob-tail back to the yard. That was going to be another 130 miles or so I was going to have to drive, and right back through New Orleans. The drive back to Gautier, Ms was more painful than the trip from Slidell to Convent. By the time I got to the yard, it was really more than I could stand.
I parked my truck and hobbled into the office in tears. They called the doctor and had another driver take me there. When the doctor looked at my foot, he said that he wanted to get x-rays before he massed around on it to much. So off to x-ray I went.
About 45 minuets later, the doctor walked back into my room. He said that he would have sworn that I had broken i, but the he didn’t see any breaks or fractures on the films. Course, “you could have a stress fracture, and that will take a few days to show up.” I have also messed up the tendons and ligaments in the foot and ankle. As the doctor says, those are worse than a sprain.
So, I am in a splint and on crutches for now. It is driving me crazy sitting around the house and not being able to do anything. Today I can put weight on it, but I still can’t walk without great pain. I go back to see the doctor Wednesday. I hope to go back to work then, but am not counting on it. I figure I am going to be off another week. With pulling a flatbed and getting on and off the trailer like I do strapping and chaining loads, I am afraid that I will not be allowed to go back to work till it is totally healed.
I grew up in DeWitt, a little farming town in south east Arkansas. Like many kids that grow up in these kind of towns, I couldn’t wait till I grew up and could get OUT of there. For many years I was happy to visit, but I didn’t want to stay that long, and if not for some of my family still living there, I am not sure I would have ever gone back.
After spending time in Iraq and surviving it, I found a new love for this great country that I live in. So when I happen to have the pleasure of running roads that go through places that remind me of DeWitt, I can’t help but see them in a different light.
A few weeks back, I did a drop and hook in Tallulah, La and headed for Avondale, La. This took me through some of the wonderful landscapes that you see above. It brought up many great memories of my childhood.
Like……
Spending the week with my Mammaw while Pappaw was in Illinois goose hunting. I would wake up in the morning to the smell of bacon and eggs cooking on the stove. Or when I came home from school and she would have some wild game, (duck, deer, squirrl,…) cooking for dinner.
Spending the summer days out fishing with my brother, step-dad, and mom.
Skiing on the Arkansas river with my church group.
There are so many memories like those that flowed through my mind as I drove that day.
But the deep south is not the only place that brings up great memories, or that makes me love my country even more. The picture about is from Bethesda, Md. I had to pick up a load there two weeks ago. Here, next to our Nations capital, with all the hustle and bustle that goes on there, with all the concrete and skyscrapers, I found a bit of that country creeping in. It was only a few miles down this road that I loaded, but I really enjoined the ride.
So, on those days that you just can’t stand where you are, or think about how much you want to get away from the podunk town that you are living in, stop those thoughts and remember something great about it. It may not be where you want to spend the rest of your life, but I am sure that there is something about it that will bring a smile to your face and a warmth to your heart.
I know I have been a bit out of touch over the last few weeks for that I am give my appoligies. I needed a break for a bit and I guess my computer knew that I would not do it on my own, so it did it for me. I had to formate both hard drives in my laptop and get everything loaded back on it. I still don’t have it to where it was before it had it’s little fit and went down. But I am back up and running.
Saddle time
Since taking that riding course a few weeks ago, I have spent as much time as I can in the saddle, doing aobut 200 to 300 miles a day on the week ends. I am trying to get myself ready for the Trail of Tears ride in a few weeks. My brother and Dad have done the ride for the last 5 or 6 years. I am very excited about finally having the chance to join them on this ride. It is going to be a hard ride for a newbie and on the bike I am riding right now. My Dad has an ’83 Honda Magna 750 that I have been riding around and will ride on the TOT, unless I find a Shadow before then. (Yes, I know! I will et my Harley once I have a bit more saddle time under my belt.) am also planning on going to the Labor Day Biker Party in Sandy Hook, MS next weekend. The Patriot Guard Riders have been invited to attend this rally/party and will be handing out flyers on the what we are and what we do.
Wheel time
As always with trucking, sometime you run your tail off and other times, you can’t find a load to save your life. It has been this way for me the last few weeks. Course this week things have picked up and I am running and working my tail off. The only bad thing about it is that about two weeks ago, I hurt my left hand.
I was at the shipyard in Avondale chaining down a load of angle iron. The chain popped and slipped, the binder came down quick, my feet slipped in the gravel, and down I went hitting my hand on some steel laying behind me. Hard-headed me, finished chanining my load and then after runn about 30 miles I reported it to the office. They offered to take me to a doc, but I really didn’t think I needed it, so I refused. Between doing my job and chaning down my loads and rding the bike, my hand is taking a LONG time to heal. Then…….
This week I was stuck doing a bit of local work. We had several loads of plate steel sitting on the yard because “Big Bertha”, the crain in the steel yard at the ship yard at Pascagoula was down for a week. I chained 5 loads down, unchained 4 load, and droped and hooked all those trailers in one day. By the time the day was done, my hand hurt worse than it did when I orginally hurt it. I ahve bene dealing with the pain for the last 3 days. Today I told the office that if it wasn’t better by the time I got back from this run to VA., that I would go to the doc. I really hate to do because I am afraid that he will tell me I need to tak e afew days off and not use the hand. I am not taking time off right now. I need to run between now and the TOT ride in 3 weeks and I AM going on that ride.
So, you see, things in my life have been interesting lately. There is much more to tell ya’ll but I am tired right now and with my hand hurting like it is, typing is slow and painful.
