Paying Homage to the Unsung Heroes of the Road
12 August 1998
[Editor's Note: The American Trucking Associations (ATA) has designated August 9-15 as Truck Driver Appreciation Week to recognize the three million men and women who deliver the goods that keep our country going and growing. This is one "behind-the-desk" employee's account of what it was like to be a truck driver for a week.]
By Rick Franks -- Manager, Service, Roberts Express
I had always dreamed of being a professional truck driver for a week. The thrill of seeing all of the sights along America's highways, of sleeping in the cab of a truck and eating greasy food at 3 a.m. Imagine my excitement when I had the opportunity to ride along in the 24-foot straight truck owned and operated by Charles and Liz Whitley, Louisville, Kentucky-based independent contractors for Roberts Express
-- the country's largest critical shipment carrier.
After five exhausting days with the Whitleys, however, I now have a renewed respect for the men and women who drive trucks for a living, especially owner-operators who manage their own businesses. Life on the road is not very glamorous; it's hard work. Here's an account of my week on the road:
Monday, 10:30 a.m.
I met the Whitleys in a Wal-Mart parking lot in Akron, Ohio. As independent contractors for an expedited carrier, they don't operate a set pickup and delivery schedule. Instead, they receive "run offers" from Roberts Express via Customer Link(R), a two-way communications system that links every vehicle to the company's customer service center. One minute the Whitleys may be dispatched to pick up an assembly line part in Charlotte destined for Detroit, and the next they'll be headed to Los Angeles to deliver sound equipment for a rock concert. Typically, the couple spends three weeks on the road at a time before relaxing for a week back home in Louisville.
At 1:30 p.m., we received an offer: an 83-mile run for a critical production line part from New Philadelphia, Ohio to Cleveland. In spite of a traffic jam, we made it to the pick up early, only to be told it would be another four hours until the freight would be ready. We pulled into the consignee's facility at 9 p.m., just in time to allow the production line to continue operation.
Tuesday, 9 a.m.
As we waited for the next run, I had a chance to get to know the Whitleys better. Besides being an owner operator for Roberts Express since 1995, Charles is also a Methodist minister, husband and father. According to Charles, he doesn't think of his occupation as a "truck driving job" but rather a "management position," because he manages everything from where and when to re-fuel the vehicle to where to park and when to fill out his paperwork. But, because Charles drives for an expedited carrier, time is mostly what he manages.
Tuesday, 3 p.m.
After playing a round of miniature golf, Charles said we should eat now because he felt the next run coming on. We had no sooner ordered lunch at a diner in Cleveland than a run offer came in to haul sheets of plastic from a Cleveland manufacturing plant to Mebane, N.C. We canceled our food order, and out the door we went. We arrived at the pickup ahead of schedule and delivered four hours early before heading to Raleigh -- the assigned "layover" point for Roberts vehicles. Finally, we pulled into a dark McDonald's at 2:30 a.m. and got some much needed rest in the truck.
Wednesday, 8:45 a.m.
We were awakened by the C-Link beeping with a run offer. We quickly accepted and hurried into McDonald's for a quick order to go. We arrived a half hour early to pick up a shipment of fabric rolls in Farmville, N.C. and started the long drive back up I-77 to Columbus, Ohio.
Somewhere around the West Virginia line, Charles turned the driving over to Liz. He retired to the sleeper, but he has an uncanny knack of always knowing exactly where the vehicle is, even with the curtain closed. Whenever we were at a critical junction, Charles would peer his head through the divider to relay instructions.
Wednesday, 9:16 p.m.
We arrived at the delivery destination in Columbus early, dropped off the shipment and then checked into a motel for a good night's rest.
Thursday, 10:30 a.m.
It was my fourth day on the road, and I vowed to kiss my desk when I returned to the office on Monday. I was exhausted from the trips up and down the highway and ready to sleep in my own bed again.
We accepted another run offer to transport drums of paint from Columbus to Columbia, S.C. I-77 had become our friend.
Charles says his enjoyment in life comes from working. He grew up on a farm and spent 12 years as a minister. He began his tenure with Roberts Express as a driver for an owner operator in 1994 and now has five trucks of his own. When I asked what makes him successful, he simply replied, "attitude." What struck me the most was the professionalism and concern for each shipment that the Whitleys displayed. They never showed any signs of fatigue; they truly enjoy their work.
Late that afternoon en route to South Carolina, I took a nap in the sleeper. When I awoke, I was sure that I was still dreaming because as "Hound Dog" blared from the radio's speakers, I saw Elvis sitting in the passenger seat belting out the tune. As my eyes slowly focused, I realized it was just Charles -- and this man can sing.
Friday, 1:30 a.m.
After about 13 hours of Charles and Liz sharing driving duties, we delivered to our destination an hour and a half before the scheduled time and continued the late night drive back to our layover in Charlotte.
That afternoon, as we sat at Jake's Truckstop, I suggested to Charles that we wash the truck. He said he would like to, but the C-Link doesn't work inside the truck wash -- and he felt a run coming on. Amazingly, about 15 minutes later we received an offer for an intra-North Carolina shipment from Charlotte to Clinton. At the pick up location, when Charles thanked the customer for his business -- which he always does -- the customer looked surprised to hear this from a "truck driver."
We headed the 200 miles east across North Carolina to Clinton, catching every red light from here to there. Charles jokingly asked me why we had accepted this latest shipment. I politely reminded him that if he had gotten the truck washed like I suggested, I would have been on a plane back to Akron right now.
At 8:30 p.m., we made the emergency delivery to Schindler, an escalator and moving walkway manufacturer. We unloaded the freight and headed to our layover in Raleigh.
Friday, 10 p.m.
Charles felt another run coming on, maybe to California. At this point, even though I was finally starting to feel comfortable with the routine of life on the road, I was homesick, exhausted and ready to go home.
Saturday, 11 a.m.
I had traveled more than 2,000 miles with the Whitleys in five days, making me at least an "honorary" truck driver. I caught a plane back to Akron, even though Charles assured me that the run to California was coming. As I walked through the airport, I had mixed feelings. Yes, I was glad to be going home, but I knew I'd miss my partners on the road who would continue to travel for the next two weeks. As I stepped onto the moving walkway, I looked down at the nameplate: Schindler. What a great feeling to know that I had just helped to deliver a critical shipment to this customer.
Saturday, 3 p.m.
I felt relieved to return home to familiar surroundings -- and no time constraints. Still, I missed the quick pickups and ASAP deliveries that really get the adrenaline flowing. As I weeded my flower beds, I kept expecting to hear my C-Link go off with a run offer; then I remembered that I don't have a C-Link. Missing the thrill of being an expedited truck driver, I ran inside my house and turned on my computer to find out where Roberts Unit No. D3131 was today. The Whitleys were on a run. I should have been there. Instead, I'd be back in the office on Monday, reflecting upon my stint as a truck driver -- and paying homage to the "unsung heroes" of the road.
