A Trucker's Tale – Hit and Run!

Oct 22, 2025 - 7 months ago

Very few truck drivers enjoy driving in New York City and onto Long Island. By Ed Miller.

The exception would be delivering toward the end of the Island, where the scenery is spectacular, and the real estate makes you wonder where all that money comes from. Unfortunately, most truckload freight delivers within about ten miles after crossing one of the river bridges.

Traffic is always bad trying to get off the Island at quitting time. Friday night rush hour, especially during the summer, is much worse, since everyone is in a hurry to get to the Jersey Shore. One of the most fitting descriptions of these Friday afternoon traffic conditions would have to be that they are “cluster#!^!,” and sadly, I got cluster#!^!ed on one of these Fridays.

I had the misfortune of having to deliver to Maspeth, L.I. one summer Friday afternoon. The crush of cars, trucks, buses, and recreational vehicles had clogged the roads so badly that traffic was just inching along at a few miles per hour.

As I passed an on-ramp, and with no warning, I watched as the front end of a car tried to sneak between the bumper of my International, and the rear bumper of the car ahead of me, even though there could not have been but two feet separating us. Dammit, I heard a crunching noise, along with a pulling motion on my steering wheel. There happened to be an exit just past where he hit me, so I pulled off and noticed a phone booth.

The car pulled in front of my truck and parked. The driver jumped-out yelling and pointing to his car, “Look where you tore-up my boss’s station wagon!” He handed me his license and registration, and I wrote the information on a piece of paper and gave them back to him. He told me to hand him my license and registration. I assured him that I would do so when the police arrived. When I turned to dial 911, the driver hollered at me and said, “You aren’t going to give me your (expletive deleted) information, are you?” Once again, I informed him that I would give them to him when the cops got there. Still yelling, he said, “Screw you, asshole!” He jumped in the car and squealed the tires as he roared off. As he was leaving, I verified that the license plate number matched the registration he had given to me.

After I called 911 and reported the incident, I asked if a cop could come to write a report. While I was waiting, I noticed some oil leaking from the plastic bearing hub cover on the right front wheel. It had been broken and punctured when the station wagon hit the wheel. I wiped it as clean as I could and then learned another of the 1,000 uses for duct tape. (The tape stayed in place, preventing any more oil leaking, until I made it to a Philadelphia International truck dealer that night. Damned good thing the shop was open until midnight.)

A policeman arrived about an hour later, which I didn’t think was too bad, considering all the congestion. He made notes of my version of the accident. He then asked where the station wagon’s driver went. I informed him of the driver’s parting farewell before he left, and the cop said something like, “F*ing unbelievable.” When I handed him the station wagon driver’s information, the cop said, “Well, the son-of-a-bitch shouldn’t have left!” He then gave me a copy of the accident report and a copy of the citation he wrote.

The following Monday morning, I was sitting in WTMS’s Safety Director’s office, while I was filling out an accident report. The director, Ed, received a phone call, which he quickly put on speaker. The very pissed-off station wagon owner loudly proclaimed, “Your truck driver destroyed the whole left side of the company car my employee was driving last Friday. What are you going to do about it?”

Ed grinned at me, and then calmly replied, “Is your driver’s name so-and-so?” The owner agreed that it was his name. Ed then informed him, “Sir, if you will contact such-and-such NYC Police precinct, you will learn that your driver, Mr. So-and-So, has an outstanding warrant for his arrest for leaving the scene of an accident.” Ed also provided the owner with the citation number.

Ed and I could hear the owner giving hell to his employee. He then said, “Sorry to have bothered you,” and he hung-up.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out why we don’t like to drive onto the Island.

Ed Miller ([email protected]) has more than 40 years of management and ownership experience in the trucking industry. Today, he is a part-time tour bus driver, published author of “A Trucker’s Tale”, and regular contributor to Supply Post. He is a father of three and a grandfather of two, and lives with his wife in Rising Sun, Maryland.