A Trucker's Tale – Trucking Stories

Dec 17, 2025 - 6 months ago

My most plausible excuses for not finishing college would have been that either life got in the way, or that I was so broke that I couldn’t pay attention. By Ed Miller.

A Trucker's Tale - Trucking Stories by Ed Miller

At the time, I drove a POS VW camper, which broke-down pretty often, so when WMTS offered me a good paying job at its biggest terminal, I gratefully accepted their offer and left college for the last time. I have worked in the trucking industry ever since that day and often thought I could write a book about the many folks who unknowingly gave me glimpses of their lives.

As I stated in my first Supply Post article, I sincerely hope their adventures provide you with as much fun and entertainment as I have had telling them over the years. When reading my book, A Trucker’s Tale, someone might think “that yarn sounds a lot like me” or “that this event sounds familiar?” If you have these thoughts, and if the time period fits, and we knew each other, then maybe that tale is about you. Thank you all. By relating your stories, I have been able to retain your acquaintances and, more importantly, your friendships for many, many years.

I have attempted writing most of these stories in a respectful manner, although being respectful was not possible when writing about some of these characters. You will clearly be able to tell who they are and why I remember them so vividly.

I did not realize it at the time, but the day I met Frank became truly momentous, as his wit has provided me with a phrase for damned-nearly every imaginable occasion. Not a single week goes by when I don’t use one of his quotes, and my poor kids—hell, all my family and friends—usually just roll-their-eyes because they have heard these quotes so many times.

Frank had been a truck driver for many years, but he was now working as WMTS’s mechanic, road service person, forklift operator, and like my granddad, Obie, he was a very capable jack-of-all-trades. What he lacked in formal education was eclipsed by his intelligent application of common sense. There were no mechanical problems he could not solve. No task was too daunting for him to tackle. He simply approached each issue, studied it, and then fixed it.

He never shied away from any job that had to be done, either. As an example, back in my college trucking days, I had fueled at the Baltimore terminal late one very cold and windy winter night, and I had driven up North about 30 miles. Just as I was passing the Maryland House Rest Area, the main radiator hose blew out, and most of the antifreeze with it. I contacted Frank and he said he would be at my location as soon as he could get there. Luckily, I had both a blanket and my military poncho liner I had used in Vietnam, so I stayed tolerably warm in my bunk if I didn’t move-around too much.

I had to get out of the bunk when Frank arrived, because these were the days that the entire tractor cab had to be jacked up to access the motor. I was so damned cold that I sat in Frank’s pickup truck most of the time, but Frank installed a new radiator hose, and refilled it with antifreeze, even though his hands were frozen stiff. He started my tractor, left it running so it would warm-up before I headed north again, and then he got into his pickup truck. He sat there and shivered for a long time, n

ever saying a word about how cold it was outside. This was a very good example of “perseverance.”

Shortly after I began working in the Baltimore terminal, we had an extremely busy day, which kept us at work until after 8:00 PM. Frank and I decided to grab a beer and a pizza before heading home in opposite directions, so we rendezvoused at a country music bar, which Frank referred to as his s--t-kicker hangout. Several beers loosened our conversational tongues, and we began talking about our personal lives.

When I learned he was in his second marriage, I asked him what had caused his first divorce. Frank’s reply was that he had, “contacted the seenus disease.”

“You mean a sinus disease?” I asked.

“No, I was in the backseat of my car with this ‘ol gal, and my wife SEEN US. I don’t know how she knew how to find me way off down that dirt road, and it scared the daylights out of me when she banged on the rear window. I got my pants on, stepped out of the car and asked her what she wanted?”

She demanded to know, “Who is that woman?”

“What woman?” Frank said.

“That woman in your car?” she shrieked.

Frank’s reply was that he did not see a woman in the backseat of his car.

Well, it wasn’t very long before Frank found himself standing in front of a courtroom at his divorce hearing. Once again, Frank claimed there was not a woman in the backseat of his car, but the judge believed his soon-to-be ex-wife’s version that there probably was a woman back there with him. Frank left the marriage with little more than the pants he had pulled up when he exited the backseat. I’m sure he wasn’t the only man to have come down with the “SEEN US” disease.

Each time Frank heard snow was forecast, he would issue, “I hope it snows so damned deep, that when you s__t, you’ll have to put it in a shotgun and shoot it out the chimley!” Snow elicits many comments from us all, but we soon learned to keep the snow word out of our conversations. Otherwise, you knew what you were about to hear. I imagine I heard the s__t-and-shotgun saying over 1,000 times. Other people tried to use it, and bombed, but Frank had the knack of making us chuckle every time he said it.

I was riding with Frank one day when he saw a gorgeous, well-proportioned woman crossing the street at an intersection. He shook his head several times and said, “My, my, my. That gal could put something on you that Ajax wouldn’t take off—and that Ajax is good stuff!” Frank used this proclamation, “put something on you Ajax wouldn’t take off,” by applying it to anything which worked extremely well, such as GoJo hand cleaner, a big sledgehammer, WD40, or even a bottle of Jack Daniels.

Frank never used old, worn-out clichés; he just made-up his own. If easy-to-fix problems turned complicated, or if someone changed something mid-stream, Frank might allow, “And the cheese gets more bindinger.” When folks heard this saying for the first time, they were at first baffled, but after thinking about his words, it didn’t take them long to grasp his real meaning.

There are so many more of Frank’s stories that next month’s article will be a continuation of this one-of-a-kind friend.

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.