He settled in and switched off the CB

Swim easy there, big Red. Lot of nets out, tonight. We’ve got a school of eleven, swimming your way. Over!Roger? I’ll just tread water until you show up. The Red Herring ? over and out!Caravanning has been the driver’s defense since before there was radar. With higher cab elevation, good eyesight, and constant use of the CB radios, no smoky bear patrolman could set up a speed trap undetected.Red cruised along at the speed limit until eleven assorted trucks caught up to him.
He settled in and switched off the CB. It might take only moments for Red to begin to discern the loyal harmony.It didn’t happen right away. He’d have nearly three hundred miles to make another musical baby.He thought about the medical salesman he’d talked to at the Chicken Out diner. On the road, at these hours, there aren’t usually many people, other than truckers, who share the camaraderie.Red’s mind slipped into his trucker’s world. Thoughts, conversations with other drivers, problems and pet peeves common to those who move American goods via the nation’s highways:We pay thousands of dollars in road use taxes, spend millions of dollars for gas and diesel, and endure the scorn of most motorists who wish we’d stay off the road.
When we quit rolling, he mused, this country stops. Supermarket shelves soon empty, as do all of the other stores. Those motorists, who curse us on the highways, can’t even buy gas for their cars.News crews are quick to cover the trucks that leave the roadways, spill loads, or catch on fire. Why don’t they ever report that the trucker involved had averted a disaster by choosing self-destruction rather than to crush the car that was responsible? Newspapers always put out a headline like:3 Dead in Car when hit by truck head on.What they don’t say until way down in the story, if at all, is that the so called truck was really a Ford F150 pickup driven by a teenager who was high on drugs.
The people read the truck headline, but not the story. Press people aren’t on hand to film the rescues when, hundreds of times each year, a real trucker sees an accident in progress on the opposite side of the turnpike, pulls over, dodges cars, drags the mother and children from a flaming car, and then leaves the scene to continue his time sensitive delivery. At least, the firefighters and police are finally getting some of the respect, appreciation they deserve. Someone should present our stories in a different forum.Red was snapped out of his hypnotic trucker’s world by a flash of bright headlights in his mirrors. Lights blinked bright, then dimmed. An automobile driver had signaled that he was about to pass the truck on this beautiful stretch of wide open road.
Flashing his trailer lights, as the signal to come ahead, Red watched in his door mirror as a burgundy Cadillac pulled alongside before moving on by.The driver was wearing a gray suit, white shirt, and a broad striped tie with its knot loosened half way down his chest.
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