TCC: The Ninth Crumb, Part II

No, I was not letting much moss grow on me. For driving a truck that could only go 58 MPH on flat ground made for some very long hours; but I did take a few breaks during 1987.

Hence: another almost fatal error in judgment. For it was during one of those breaks that I was introduced unto Debbie.

Alas, she was just too good to be true. For she was incredibly attractive: both in regards unto physical appearance and intellectual prowess; and I was quite impressed (to say the least).

Shockingly: so was she with me. That is: at least unto a certain extent. For she was in the the process of obtaining a divorce from a husband who took her for granted; and I represented something new and exciting to play with for a fortnight or two.

Yes, I did everything right at first; and we had some very good times together. In fact: we were quite inseparable when we were both in town at the same time.

Except for that one time. For I lost control of a really nice Ford pick-up truck that I had just bought; and when it finally came to rest in a dry creek-bed around 200 feet below the road: the roof of the cab was touching the seat (and not the back of it, neither).

It all seemed like a dream unto me. Granted: a really bad one; but still a dream: nonetheless. For I could feel the truck rolling over and over again; but it was not until I felt the shattered glass of the windshield on the floorboard that I realized that it was not a dream at all.

Thankfully: the only injury that I sustained was tearing an inch or so of my lower lip away from where it attaches unto my gum inside of my mouth; and the emergency room visit was the most painful part about it. For I was really not in any pain until they started to fix me up; but after being on the receiving end of some very tender, and very loving, care: I was ready to rip-snort like never before.

Then: I really messed up. For the last thing she wanted me to do was to fall in love with her; and that was exactly what I went and did.

Now, in all fairness: she tried to let me down easy; but I was not having any part of it. For I had made-up my mind that she was the one for me; and I was bound and determined to do whatever it took to make her see things my way.

As was said before: there is much about my past that I am deeply ashamed of; and my "courtship" of Debbie is certainly included. For I even went as far as to insist that it was "God's will" for us to be together; and when that did not get me very far: I was most definitely not too proud to grovel and beg like there would be no tomorrow for me without her.

No, that was not just a line. For visions of suicide danced in my head once again.

A good example of how far gone I was at the time would be a load I picked-up in Highland Park, IL (northside of Chicago) early one Friday morning and delivered in Tulsa, OK the next Monday. For it did not merely flirt with disaster: it gave it an engraved invitation!!!

No, the load itself was not the problem. For it consisted of a single pallet of computer parts that weighed around 450 pounds (I think).

Neither were the logistics involved. For I had over 72 hours to go a little more than 700 miles, which was an easy run for even someone in a 58 MPH rig.

The problem was the weather. For up to a foot of snow covered a couple of inches of solid ice in places protected from the 30 MPH winds coming out of the west.

Yes, I was well aware of the horrid conditions. For while I was waiting to back into the dock and pick-up my load: a gust of wind hit my trailer broadside and pushed it a good 20 feet (with the brakes locked), which left it at a 45 degree angle in relation unto how my truck was parked.

Nonetheless: I just had to see her that night; but it was all for naught. For Debbie decided that the weather was too bad for her to get out in.

Even after that: the trucking company insisted upon pairing me up with another student from Warren, MI (Detroit) who was to drive out of their Houston, TX terminal upon graduation. Yeah, like that would do me a lot of good. For that "out of sight, out of mind" thing has never really worked for me; but I did feel a certain sense of responsibility for my student.

So: we hung in there together for 6 weeks; and it did wind-up being good for me. For having someone to talk to about it made me feel better; but I have my doubts about it being of all that much good unto him.

Anyway: I declined to take-on any more students for awhile after he graduated in February, 1988. For I wanted some time unto myself to obsess about Debbie without being disturbed.

Well, not really. For the plan was to fly solo for as long as it took to clear my head; but after 3 months of self-inflicted therapy: the only thing that was clear was that I was still obsessed with her.

Then: disaster struck for real in May, 1988. For while dead-heading unto a town to pick-up a load: I was involved in an accident that killed a man.

No, I did not believe that my obsession over Debbie had anything to really do with it. For it is true that she was on my mind when I rounded a blind curve and saw 2 cars in my lane stopped around 200 feet in front of me; but that had not had any adverse effects upon my driving before. In fact: I had been awarded a "1 Year Safe Driver Award" for 1987 by the American Trucking Association (ATA).

On the other hand: I did have a great fear of the truth being that I was being punished for claiming that it was God's will for us to be together; and the unfolding events of the day did little to convince me otherwise. For after locking eyes with the victim mere moments before they became lifeless: the officer in charge of the scene informed me that they were compelled by state law to take me into custody because of crossing the center-line of the 2-lane highway; and things went from bad to much, much worse from there.

No, I did not believe that it was my fault. That is: other than giving God a good reason to dump a bucketful of brimstone upon my head. For when I applied the brakes: nothing happened; and that same result repeated itself every time I stomped on the brakes before swerving into what appeared to be an empty on-coming traffic lane.

Obviously: it was not at all empty; and that little fact made my decision to swerve left (instead of right) all the more agonizing. For from where I was sitting: swerving right would have involved taking-out an electric pole and probably a house or two.

At first: I was much more concerned about the victim and his family than I was about my own plight. For all of the police at the scene were quite clearly on my side; and things appeared to be really looking good for me after the accident investigator hired by my company told me (at the scene) that the braking system of my rig had indeed malfunctioned.

Then: the view changed. For all of that goodwill that I was receiving from the police abruptly ended after "my" trucking company announced that I had been placed on suspension (subject unto termination); and that by being on suspension: all ties unto them were also suspended until further notice.

No, I cannot really blame the police. For common sense would dictate that there must have been something seriously wrong about me for the company that I had been driving for the last 17 months to make such drastic moves in order to distance themselves from me so quickly.

The next bucketful of brimstone to fall crushed me. For when I asked the accident investigator to get me a copy of his report detailing the fact that the braking system had malfunctioned: he told me that I must be mistaken. For he swore that he never said anything remotely like that unto me while we were still at the scene of the tragedy.

Since the company would not send $500 of my paycheck unto the jail so that I could bail myself out: my last resort was my mother; and she came through like I never expected. For instead of just getting $500 of my money out of the bank: she borrowed $5,000 in order to avoid losing the $500 unto a bail-bond agency.

Consistent with the script: there was a problem with my mother bailing me out. For I had to stay in jail until she, my brother and his wife got down there the next day.

Now, unto a real manly man: a night in jail is no big deal; and if played right: it can greatly add unto their aura. For who in their right-mind would want to mess with someone "THE MAN" could not break?

Not so for a poser like myself. For with over 60 monstrous brutes in a 20'x20' cell fighting over who would be my "first": I was absolutely terrified.

Yes, I was just kidding. For it is true that there were over 60 of us packed into a 20'x20' cell; but it is not at all true that anyone messed with me.

In fact: just the opposite was true. For I found a few sympathetic ears to listen unto my sad, sad story of betrayal and abandonment.

My family also lent a sympathetic ear or two unto me; and I was very appreciative of what they had went through for me. For the local authorities did not make it easy for my mother to bail me out of their jail; and I tried my best to make it up unto her during the month that I stayed "home" while waiting to go back "Over-The-Road".