Today I renewed my driver's license. For the past 25 years, I've held a Commercial Driver's License (CDL). When I left California in 1991, I needed a job. I decided to enroll in the All State Tractor-Trailer School. At that time, they were located in Bridgeport.
How did I decide to become a tractor-trailer driver?
My Uncle John has been a great influence on my life. "Unc" was born in Scotland but eventually the family moved to Connecticut.
My grandparents and uncle moved to California in the late 60's.
Unc was a high-school football star and went on to be recruited by many colleges in California. He played for Cypress College and I have held onto a treasured photo of him from the Orange County Register chasing down an opposing player.
It was no surprise that having a football star in the family and growing up in Derby when I did, that I would try to follow in his footsteps.
After my uncle's football career, he bought a big rig and became an owner operator truck driver.
There was something romantic about being a truck driver in those days. Smokey and the Bandit was the number two movie in the land (behind Star Wars) and in fact, my uncle looked a bit like Burt Reynolds. We nicknamed him "Uncle Burt."
He was single, traveling the country, and always had either a Corvette or a Porsche in his driveway.
Highlights of our family's childhood were whenever Uncle John would call and say he would be in Connecticut for a few days. I always had a love of geography and found his tales from the road fascinating.
When I was fourteen, my uncle took me and my brother on a cross country trip in his rig to Los Angeles to visit our grandparents.
The trip was awesome. Here was a guy who would climb in the cab and at all times be in control of his life. If he didn't want a load, he would reject it. If he wanted the truck unloaded, he'd throw some cash the way of the locals and get them to unload the truck for him. Although being Scottish, I don't think he threw too much money around. :) He lived the Southern California lifestyle. He played golf, he surfed, he shared an apartment with other beachcombers and at fourteen I looked up to him more than he could ever realize.
Fast forward to my time at All State Tractor-Trailer School.
It was tougher than one would think, but in the end I received a certificate for being "Best in Class." This would be the only time in my scholastic career that I would ever be best of anything. My buddies joke with me about this honor to this day, but hey...someone has got to be best in class, so why not me?
I was hired shortly thereafter by Werner Enterprises of Omaha, Nebraska. You can still see their rigs all over the country (baby blue with an arrow on the cab and trailer).
As a new driver, I had to go on the road for two months with trainer drivers. These trainer drivers earned a little more money per mile to give their advise and to show the newbies how to succeed on the road. They ensured the new drivers were safe and knew what they were doing before the keys were turned over and the new drivers were allowed to go solo.
When I finally went solo, it was magical. My hub was Springfield, Ohio and I was given the keys to a new Kenworth with a 53-foot trailer. I got a kick out of all the CB handles out there. I remember traveling up the coast from Georgia in a small convoy of Werner drivers to Halifax, Nova Scotia. I was with Mr. Magic, the Terminator, and Pooh Bear. Pooh Bear had a boom mike and sounded like the biggest, baddest man you could imagine. I was surprised when we stopped somewhere along I-95 and saw all five feet of the mighty Pooh step out of his cab. Me...I thought I had a great CB handle, "Hey, Weenie Wagon (this is what other drivers called Werner trucks), who we got driving that rig up yonder?" I replied, "You got the Jerkin' Gherkin." You see, my handle was a play on my last name. Other truckers didn't care for my handle, in fact, Pooh Bear stated, "You don't mind if I just call you Gerckens?" I still find people still don't get my sense of humor, but I've always been about getting people to laugh.
One of my first solo trips was a load that had to be delivered to Chicago. Chicago, as it turns out is a tough location to drive a big rig. There are so many low bridges (less than the 13' 6" required for most rigs) that they actually had a Chicago Bridge Commission. A driver needed to call them to be routed through Chicago to ensure they would circumvent any low bridges. I made my call, wrote down the route and thank God I did. There were low bridges all around me as I snaked my way through the urban streets. I got to my location okay, but what they didn't tell me was that I would need to back the wrong way down a two lane one-way street and then perform a blind alley dock parking maneuver. This meant backing up two to three feet, engaging the brake, getting out of the cab, and walking behind the truck to ensure I didn't hit anything...talk about pressure.
Some say that driving a truck is a lonely life. I looked at it as an exciting life. I had family on the East Coast and family on the West Coast. At Werner we received 3 days off for being three weeks on the road. I divided my time between Derby and three weeks later, I'd spend my time in LA. I carried my scuba diving gear in my rig and whenever I was in LA or Florida, I would park the truck and spend some time scuba diving.
I'm a sports fan and would think nothing of grabbing a load that went through Minnesota so that I could see the Vikings play. Another time, I was in Texas, so I drove to Arlington to see the Rangers play the Red Sox.
The pay...well let's say that you had to drive a lot of miles in order to make any money. At that time, I was making $.20 per mile. My best week was leaving Derby and picking up a load in Hartford. I brought it to Baltimore. From Baltimore I was sent to Townson, Maryland and needed to bring that load to Pittsburgh. From Pittsburgh I headed back east to Washington, D.C. I then secured a load from Virginia to LA. At some point near Gallup, New Mexico, I ran out of hours and rather than spending my three days in Gallup, I continued on to LA. Was I wrong? Absolutely, but there were ways to navigate around the system in those days.
By the end of my driving career, I had driven to every state in the union (except Alaska). No, I did not drive to Hawaii, but had been there on a couple of vacations. Alaska remains a sore point for me. I've been stuck on needing Alaska to say that I've been to all fifty states for two and a half decades. One day, I'll get there...I hope.
I met my wife (Patsy) while driving. During one of my three days off in Connecticut, country line dancing was popular. I know it sounds like a sappy Country-Western song, but me and Patsy were the only single people, so she became my dance partner. Facing the road alone became increasingly harder and I eventually left the truck driving business.
In the subsequent years, I've held onto my CDL. I always thought that if times got hard, or if something happened to my job, I could always go back to driving.
Today, I decided that the likelihood of returning to the open road at this stage of my life is probably slim to none, so I downgraded to a regular drivers license.
Part of me will always treasure my days on the road. I owe my fiercely independent streak to my truck driving career. It takes independence to roll into a strange town, keep one's own schedule, decide when to eat, shower, use the restroom, wash clothes, etc.... I still look up to my uncle for being a special role model for me. Mostly, my truck driving days introduced me to my wife which then introduced the world to my beautiful daughters.
So goodbye to the Class A truck driving man, and hello to the Class D Man.
Awesome story
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