We pick up Tubby’s story in 1941, it was with Globe, not long after he began operating his first semi. Only once did Tubby get fed up with being a “knight of the road.”
He’d been steadily on the road and was tired out after several long, hard trips when he was ordered to Cincinnati and Middletown, OH, to get a load for Chicago. Almost as soon as he arrived in Chicago, he was ordered to take a load to Buffalo, N.Y., and left Chicago about 1 a.m.
It was a rush job, and he took no time out to eat or sleep. After he parked at the dock, Tubby walked away, turned, and looked back at his big red rig and said with deep feeling, “You big red so and so, I hope I never see you again as long as I live.”
He went to a hotel, anticipating at least one good night’s rest. At the hotel, however, was a telegram notifying him that his sister, Fern, had died. As soon as the “big red so-and-so” was loaded again he took off for home. At Indianapolis he got Red Houston to finish the run to St. Louis (Red’s own outfit was down for repairs, so he was available) and then to make another run for him back east.
“I hoped Red would never bring the truck back,” Tubby says. “But he did. And I got back into the swing of it and started liking it for the first time since I bought that semi.”
Another time Tubby recalls was getting stalled in the biggest snowstorm he’s ever seen. On a Detroit to Indianapolis run he was stuck between Toledo and Fort Wayne for 72 hours with nothing to eat or drink.
Finally, the Red Cross came with coffee and sandwiches for Tubby, and a number of other truckers and a busload of travelers, including babies and small children. But he got paid for that nightmare of 72 hours sitting out the storm in the cab of the tractor.
Then there was this stowaway — Money, the Clark’s cat. Blanch let the pet out shortly before Tubby left in his truck for a run to Cincinnati and Detroit, where Tubby laid over for eight hours before returning home.
As he pulled up in front of the house, he heard a faint “meow” from under the hood and discovered Money nestled between the battery and side of the engine compartment. She was still there after 27 and a quarter hours, and none the worse for her big adventure.
Thereafter, Blanch was sure to have Money in sight whenever Tubby left on his travels.
Tubby says its not true what we’ve heard most of our lives, that the best place to find good food while on the road are where you can see a bunch of truck drivers gathered. The food might be okay, of course, but that’s not why the truckers are there. They are more interested, in the convenience of the truck-stops’ locations, their gasoline discounts for truckers, and especially the size and layout of the truck parking areas.
He says it’s true that there’s a close-knit fraternity among the drivers. One makes a lot of friends who have much in common, and seldom knows when or where, among all the states they travel. Tubby says he never realized until he was out of the business just how closely truckers are all tied together. Even today, whenever one of the old veterans dies, he’s sure to get a phone call from at least one other driver.
Despite long absences from home (up to 30 days at a time) over-the-road trucking can be a pretty good life, Tubby says. For one thing, “Once you’re away from the terminal and hitting the road, you’re on your own and your own boss until the job is completed.”
Also, the pay became quite respectable, largely due to the teamsters’ union efforts (Tubby now has a lifetime card in the union) and when he retired Tubby was making more money driving Ellis’ equipment for Ellis than he used to make when he paid all his own hotel bills and other expenses, owned his own rig, and was responsible for maintenance.
Except for increased traffic, the work is easier. The roads are better, and more direct routes have been laid out. The long hauler no longer has to help load, unload or even park his rig, once it gets to a terminal.
To quote Tubby, “Now, about the only thing a driver has to worry about is having a dime in his pocket to make a phone call for help. Hotels where we lay over even furnish the driver transportation from the terminal to the hotels and back to the terminal.
About that “knights of the road” appellation.
“The boys are awfully good, but I have a feeling the oldtimers were a lot better than what a lot of the newer ones are. They’re all good and will do most anything to help anybody out,” Tubby said.
To be continued.
Submitted by Pauline Hoover, Brown County Historical Society
