A Trucker's Tale – Management Woes

May 20, 2026 - one month ago

How to find your parked vehicle in a snow storm, a case of greener grass syndrome, and a lesson in complaining to the big boss.

A Trucker's Tale – Management Woes — *Where did you park again, CTH?*

CTH

CTH was the traffic manager for WMTS, and his primary responsibility was oversight of the traffic department, which rated all shipments. Nowadays, most truckloads are rated at either at a flat rate, or by the mile. Back then, only a true traffic manager could figure out the convoluted rate structures for all the different commodities. Trucking companies could only transport freight, and only those specific commodities, which they had been “granted authority” by the Interstate Commerce Commission (ICC).

Additionally, most new operating authority was only granted because a shipper could not find sufficient carriers to haul its freight. This shipper would then “support” a carrier’s application for new, or additional, operating authority. It was commonplace for the shipper’s representative, along with the carrier’s representative (oftentimes the traffic manager) to both meet with the carrier’s transportation attorney. After the case was placed on the ICC “docket,” many times only the attorney would testify to state the case before the ICC.

Bullshit, you say? It certainly was bullshit, it was terribly expensive, and the process severely restricted competition. Most trucking companies were happy with the status quo, especially the large LTL (less than truckload) carriers, because rates were high and most all company’s profits were good.

Members of Congress also realized the rules were arcane and needed to be changed, when they passed the Motor Carrier Act of 1980, more commonly referred to as “Deregulation.” Would you believe the large trucking companies hated it? Most everyone else liked the fact that it was now possible for small trucking companies to get their feet into a shipper’s front door. Shippers loved deregulation because freight rates practically dropped overnight.

Getting back to CTH, he had driven to Washington’s National Airport, parked his car, and then found a quiet bar inside the terminal. As he was having his “highballs,” Joe and I were having drinks at our own quiet bar in the Pittsburgh Airport. Joe was the representative for the steel shipper which was supporting our application for new operating authority to transport steel from PA to points in the US. Joe and I were flying to meet CTH in Washington, have dinner, and then meet with our company’s attorney the following morning.

Joe and I had several more drinks on the one-hour flight. After CTH met us at the gate, we shook hands, and Joe and I followed CTH back to the quiet bar to which he had evidently taken a shine. We discussed some business as we had a few more drinks. We told jokes as we had a few more drinks. We eventually realized it was so late that eating was out of the question, so we agreed to just head for the motel.

We walked into the night to find ourselves in the middle of a raging snow squall, when CTH hollers, “Where the hell did I park my car?” Snickering, as inebriated fellows do from time to time, Joe and I asked, “Oh, come on CTH, it is cold out here, so where is your damned car? Well, CTH looked across the acres, and acres, and more acres of parked cars and dejectedly said, “I don’t have a god damned clue where I parked!”

Although none of us were clothed for this kind of weather, the alcohol did make us brave enough to head in different directions as we searched the parking lots. CTH had given Joe and me the make, model, color, and license plate number of the MIA vehicle, but the wet snow had stuck to the roofs, and sides of all the cars, so we had to look at just about every single license plate. We had agreed on a time and place for our rendezvous. By the time we found his car, we were wet, cold, and stone sober.

Greener grass

During one of those young, stupid, and fly off the handle situations, I had a (perceived) disagreement with one of my bosses at WMTS. Rather than accepting his side of our argument, I resigned and went to work for another trucking company, believing in the adage, “the grass is always greener.” Unfortunately, since it did not turn out to be any greener, I will refer to this other carrier as Big Mistake (BM) Trucking.

The owner of BM flew in his private jet to attend a drivers’ safety meeting we had scheduled for Saturday morning at our terminal in Mississippi. I picked him up at the local airport and then drove to the terminal. When we got there, he told me to drive through the yard so he could look at the equipment. (I anticipated him wanting to do this, so the previous evening I had parked the 30 tractors and trailers into a very presentable arrangement.)

When we got out of the car after parking in the fuel lane, the owner walked up so close to me that I could smell his breath. He said, “What’s all those empty tractors doing out there boy?” Well, we did have four or five available trucks, so I replied, “Well sir, we are doing our best to find qualified drivers to put in them.”

He pronounced, “I’d rather have a warm body in those trucks than them sitting on the fence. Do you catch my drift?” After assuring him that I certainly did catch his drift, we went into the building for the safety meeting, where the old man promptly pissed off all the drivers. He informed them that he was ending BM’s safety bonus program, because he felt he was paying the drivers extra money to do something they were supposed to do already—that being to drive safely.

As soon as he said his piece, he turned to me, told me to take him to the airport, and then he walked out of the building. Most drivers just sat stunned by what they were told, but one fellow jumped up and ran after the owner. He got very close to the old man and yelled that he had never worked for a sorrier son-of-a-bitch before in his life. I stepped in and pulled the driver away from the owner.

On the way to the airport, I was instructed to terminate the irate driver’s employment “within the hour.” The driver was waiting for me when I got back to the office, and after learning of his firing, he said he figured that it would happen, and that it was okay, because he “didn’t want to work for that bastard anyway!”

Well, we did get busy hiring drivers, and it only took us about two weeks to fill the empty tractors with warm bodies. Most of us were not at all surprised that it took less than 30 days before three of the five tractors were wrecked by those warm bodies. (What the hell? They wouldn’t have received a safety bonus even if they hadn’t torn up their tractors.) Karma?

Everything’s great, Boss

Several years prior to my employment with BM, an event took place that I wish I had learned about before going to work for them. One Friday evening, BM sent their company planes to pick up all terminal managers, along with their wives, and then flew them to a management meeting at the corporate office.

When the husbands and wives finished eating breakfast Saturday morning, BM gave some cash to each wife, provided them with transportation, and then bid them to go shopping and have a fun morning. The wives were asked to return in time for everyone to have lunch together.

The manager’s meeting was rolling along smoothly until the owner asked the men if anyone had any gripes or complaints about the way things were done at BM. He also said they could be very candid, and that they could ask about or discuss any topic. Reportedly, one terminal manager did have a complaint. Then another manager had a separate issue to talk about. Another said he didn’t think it had been a good idea to take away the driver’s safety bonus. Some managers, those not having their own complaints, took sides with other manager’s issues.

When the wives returned for lunch, they found their husbands without jobs, as the old man had fired every damned one of them. The lunch buffet went untouched, because everyone had lost their appetites. Everyone was taken to their motel to check out, and then the company planes flew them all back to their homes. (At least BM didn’t make them pay for their own return transportation.)

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.