ATTITUDE IS
EVERYTHING
By Julie Fricker
Those of us who drive semi's live a very strange lifestyle. We adapt to
hardships that others would find intolerable. To say that some shippers and
receivers are rude would be putting it mildly. However, to be fair, I must admit
that I have had some customers bend over backward for me. We are lied to on a
regular basis about appointment times (hurry up and wait) and are ripped off by
lumper services and lets not even get started on the home time we all seek but
often have to fight for.
Lets face it, driving a tractor trailer is not something most women consider
when deciding what they want to do with their lives. In fact, if they didn't
have someone in their immediate family who drove a truck, chances are most
people, male or female, wouldn't give this career a second thought.
However, in the course of writing a novel, I had the opportunity to speak with
quite a few women who confided to me that deep in the hidden recesses of their
hearts, the very idea of driving a semi always fascinated them.
I had the privilege of speaking to one woman at a truck stop in Texas. Her name
was Milly, and she was ninety-three years old. She told me something which
I will never forget. She spoke very softly and succinctly explaining
how she was married off at an early age and expected to do exactly as her
husband wanted without hesitation. By the time she turned twenty six, Milly had
borne five children and worked harder than you and I will ever know. But she
believed that it was the only life she was born to and could not imagine any
other.
Then, she looked into my eyes, saying that I was very fortunate to live in a
time and a place where doing whatever I wanted, when I wanted was possible. It
was a luxury she herself had never known. She said, "I have always admired
those women who went their own way in life. I was never allowed to speak with
them, for fear of being castigated by my peers, but I admired them nonetheless.
Had I chosen a different path than the one laid out by my father, I would have
been cut off from my family and ostracized by everyone I had ever known."
This chance encounter with Milly has always stayed with me for two reasons. For
one, it fostered in me the will to never let anyone tell me what to do with my
life. The other was to envy her for the life she had lived. A simple life where
everything was a given. She knew when she woke up in the morning what she had to
do and how she was going to do it. She didn't have to worry about walking across
a parking lot late at night from the restaurant to the truck. She never had to
worry about parking on a city street in the early hours of the morning waiting
for the receiver to open the gate. And she never had to worry about who was
watching her as she fueled her truck.
But everything is a trade off. We endure these inconveniences and take the risks
we do, so that our spirits can soar wherever our imagination will take us. We
have freedom that most people will never know. We have the independence that
women like Milly couldn't begin to imagine. We have a life that is both bitter
and sweet, rich with rewards and suffused with sacrifice. I wouldn't have it any
other way.
I do have to admit though, if given the choice, I will always do things the hard
way. It's almost as if I have a perverse attraction to pain and heartache. I'm
sure I'm not alone in this sentiment. I'd bet my last dollar that most of you
are nodding your heads and saying "tell me about it." And this too can
be comforting. To know that I am not alone in my headstrong ways.
I have always been like that, preferring the road less traveled than to stick to
the well lit and safer interchanges. But what I lack in wisdom, I more than make
up for in the humor department. Life will do that to you if you're not careful.
It will let you make the mistakes, then give you a good sense of humor so that
you can amuse yourself by laughing at your own foolishness. But attitude is
everything, right?
Take my current situation. Even though both my husband and I each drive a semi,
we don't drive together. And for those couples out there who do manage to make
it work, I offer my heartfelt congratulations. It isn't easy and it's nice to
know that you two have what it takes to tough it out.
Troy and I teamed together for a while over at Werner Enterprises and then came
over to Your Town Transport and continued to run together for a few more months.
But neither one of us ever got any real sleep and I compounded the situation by
suffering from severe motion sickness.
I was taking Dramamine and Nytol to go to sleep and NoDoz to stay awake long
enough to drive. It was a mess. And in truth, I thought that I would die the day
Troy and I decided we would have to drive separate trucks. I really thought my
life was over. Troy thought I was having a nervous breakdown and in a panic,
actually called his mother looking for advice. I was afraid that if we no longer
drove together there would be no way to continue the relationship. I equated our
driving together as staying together.
But we joke about it now by telling everyone we're doing our part for drug free
America. we say we're keeping each other off drugs by staying out of each others
trucks.
I guess it would have been harder had I never driven by myself. But the fact is,
I had. And quite successfully too. I had six or so years OTR by the time we met
and so did he. In retrospect, this might have led to our downfall as a team. We
had both had all the benefits of a solo career and thoroughly enjoyed soloing.
We could listen to your favorite music as loud as we wanted. We could stop when
we wanted and eat where we wanted to. Well, you get the picture. Basically, we
could do whatever we wanted to do without having to worry about someone else all
the time.
But in truth, I miss my husband when I'm on the road. I miss the fun we used to
have together, the things we did and the way he made me laugh. Honest to God I
married the funniest man I have ever met. He is the sweetest and most caring
person you'd ever want to meet and it blows me away that he chose me. He did
have to work hard to convince me of the possibility of us. It wasn't easy
because I was so hardheaded. Still am.
But we make it work just like you do. You and the thousands of other drivers,
both solo and team, who are reading this article right now. You make it work,
because you have to. Sometimes the alternative simply isn't acceptable.
I wish people outside the trucking industry knew how hard we worked. I wish that
we could get a third of the credit we deserve for making this country hum. In an
ideal world, cities and towns across this land would make us feel a little
better about the job we do for them. But we don't live in an ideal world, do we?
And so I suppose it's up to us, you and me, to lift up and extol the virtues of
the trucking industry. And so I do what I can. I wrote a book about a unique
woman who represents the best there is in this industry. The book is called
'Shadows Of The Mountain' and it's awesome. Just ask anyone whose read it.
Published in the February 2003 Issue
of Team Drivers & Women in Trucking.
