Almost 2 years ago, since my last post, we changed companies and bought a new truck. This company is a dry van/flatbed company and exclusively for owner operators. We chose the dry van division and have enjoyed having our choice of loads and destinations. There haven’t been very many interesting stories to share, I felt, until now.

I have been running solo for about the last 9 months so Freckles could take some time off and enjoy our new home we bought. I was in Oregon heading south to better reload options empty and unwilling to run the ridiculously cheap rates for the loads in the area. One of the many perks of this new company is having a load coordinator. We were fortunate enough to be assigned a young energetic and professional lady. She watches the load board for loads for her assigned fleet of trucks and calls me when there is one that she feels I may like based on our history of choosing loads. She works a typical 40ish hour workweek and indeed keeps us running with repeated offerings of loads. She is very positive, upbeat, and I am blessed to have her.

She called and stated there was a driver who picked up a load at a military base in Washington and was hit by a stoned driver. The trailer was wrecked (him and his truck were fine) and we would have to get to the tow yard where the tow truck driver, and staff, would unload the wrecked trailer and reload the cargo into my empty, available trailer. This was to take place in Idaho if I wanted the load, and could make delivery.

This is where it gets interesting. The load had to be in Norfolk, VA in 4 days at 8am Monday to be loaded onto an aircraft carrier at the local Naval base. If the load wasn’t there by then, the ship would leave without it. Also, a twic card was required, and mine, was expired. I would need an escort into the base, on what was a federal holiday. At the point of this call, I was over 2800 miles away from the delivery point. My coordinator and I decided it was impossible… Unless… I thought, maybe Freckles would jump in the truck and make this happen? The load paid well enough, maybe? I told my coordinator I would ask, and call her back. I’m not sure why or how I knew this load was important, I just knew.

I called Freckles and she said yes, without hesitation, without reservations, or questions. Because, as anybody who has read this blog knows, she is my ride or die. I called the coordinator back and she, as she always does and doesn’t have to, makes all the calls and acceptance speeches for me. Now, Freckles is in Kentucky, and I am almost 2000 miles away in Oregon heading to the pickup, in Idaho. We have already said we will do this, and we have no idea how. Rent a car? Maybe, Freckles hates flying, probably even scared of it a little. After completing all the calculations of time and distance, flying was the only realistic way we were going to pull this off. We didn’t even know how to book a flight, especially one that was immediately available. So we did what we always do, we called a kid. Our oldest one has flown many times. Between her and Freckles, they somehow managed to book a flight to land in Salt Lake City the next day at about the time I would be rolling through there. Now we have a chance, and it’s starting to feel like a miracle.

I got to the tow yard in Idaho the following morning. They “trans-loaded” everything into my trailer in about an hour and a half. This is when I realized, these boxes, are personal items of service members that are about to be deployed on this ship. And if I didn’t get to Freckles, or her flight was delayed/cancelled, they had to sail without their belongings. That’s not even to mention, Naval bases are huge, and I wasn’t sure where to go, or if we would even be allowed in there… And it was going to be closed due to it being a federal holiday. I put that out of my mind for a bit to manage the task at hand, get to Salt Lake City, and my soulmate.

I thought of my dad and my brother. I thought of my many uncles, aunts and cousins who have served in the military. I thought what if these were their things, and they had to leave the country without them? How much would it hurt to not have anything from home, and where was this ship going? How could they get these things once they were in International waters? Everything I learned and encountered only deepened my resolve, this load… was going to be there, early.

There is no parking for an 18 wheeler at this airport that I knew of, so I was going to have to find a truck stop that was close, and quickly, so Freckles wasn’t sitting on a curb somewhere. I found one about 29 miles away and parked. Freckles arrived and booked an expensive “Uber” ride, and we were reunited. Freckles hadn’t driven in 9 months, but the hardest part was over. She easily drove the next night, like she had never been out of the truck. It was like old times, except I felt like it was the most important load I had ever had. My load coordinator mentioned there was another truck on the same run I was and that he may have to be the one to actually bring the load into the base, as he had a twic card and he would be there at the same time. I asked for his number, and she emailed it to me later that day. As I mentioned, she’s awesome. I called him and he stated there was also a flatbed driver and they were running the route together. We picked a truck stop close to the base, and arrived on Sunday…. a day early. Freckles and I got there first. About an hour after that, these drivers arrived and we met and chatted a bit. Turns out, our loads were the belongings of a jet fighter squadron deploying somewhere far away. The flatbed driver, offered to help me fix my CB which wasn’t working well. While we were working on it, I went to get out of the truck in a hurry, missed the step and laid out backwards, falling flat on my back and elbow. It was painful, and I was very embarrassed. The other dry van driver, after making sure I wasn’t dead, said, “We’re going to need you to do that again, so I can video it.” We laughed it off and I was humbly reminded to maintain 3 points of contact getting in and out of the truck as I tried to stop the bleeding from my elbow and ego. Three points of contact, is literally the first thing one learns at trucking school, after all.

The next morning, eventually, we got to the base. After providing our CDL’s and social securitycards for a background check, we were led to the pier, where many huge ships were docked. On my right, was a British aircraft carrier, and to my left was the Dwight D. Eisenhower air craft carrier. There were pilots and squadron personnel everywhere, and many were looking for the truck that had their things, and worried about it. More than one asked me where I came from and I felt bad for them when it wasn’t me they were looking for, but I felt insanely patriotic that we made it with our load.

They took these boxes out of my trailer and put them two at a time straight onto the ship with a huge crane as soon as they left my trailer. During this time I learned this aircraft was being routed toward Israel, as a deterrent to our enemies participating in a developing conflict with Hamas, a terrorist group, attacking Israel (our ally). By the time they were done, it had developed into a bloody war, and every box that left my trailer belonged to pilots and soldiers, willing to put their lives in peril, for the United States of America. I felt insignificant in all of that, but happy for my tiny forgettable contribution.

My father passed away over 20 years ago. He was a proud Marine who served in Vietnam and loved his country. I have often wondered if he would be proud of me now, just a truck driver. On this day, for the first time since the day I watched him take his last breath, I had absolutely no doubt, that not only was he proud of Freckles and I, he was with us the whole time.