Meaghan

Her name was Meaghan.  She was going into shock.  I was standing on the side of the road in northern Alabama holding her up so that she did not fall down again and hurt herself.  I urged her to sit down on a safe area off the side of the road and stood up thinking I should run to the truck to fetch a blanket.  Just minutes earlier, I had been following her and several other drivers down Highway 72 near Athens Alabama.   There was another semi in front of me so my forward visibility was somewhat obscured.  Because of this, I had been giving the truck plenty of room in case we needed to stop in a hurry.  Sure enough, without warning, I saw the two white cars in front of the semi flip end over end several times.  They had made contact at high speed in the middle of the roadway.  Plastic and glass rained down on the pavement and the smell of burning rubber filled the air.  

The truck driver in front of me and I both had the same reaction.  We braked as safely as possible and pulled off the right side of the road.  As I was slowing down, my mind raced to remember where I had stored my medical kit.  I cursed out loud when  suddenly remembered that I had gotten lazy about it and stopped carrying one just over 2 years ago.  As my truck glided to a crawl, my left hand instinctively reached down to unlatch the fire extinguisher that I keep there.  I glanced up and surveyed the situation quickly.  There was no immediate indications of a fuel spill or a fire.  I made a quick decision and spared some seconds to forgo the extinguisher for now.   This was far from the first time I had witnessed such and event, and I knew that time could be pretty critical right now.

As the air brakes popped in the two trucks, we were both out and on our feet in a full run before our engines fully shut down. There were also people already streaming in from several directions out of the businesses that lined the side of the road.  The driver in front of me veered left to the minivan that had landed in the middle of the median on its side.  Most of the other bystanders were also running in that direction.  So I turned my attention to the other vehicle.  The white Hyundai had rolled at least once and had veered off the right side of the road and about 150 yards down a pretty steep embankment.  Thankfully, it had landed on its wheels.  As I ran towards the car, a much younger man ran past me and down to the vehicle.  As we made our way down the slippery grass slope, a young lady exited the drivers side of the car and promptly fell down.  The young man in front of me reached her first and helped her up.  As they attempted to distance themselves from the wrecked Hyundai, they both took another tumble together.  I reached out and grabbed the young lady by the arm as we both asked her frantically: “Is there anyone else in the car?”  “N-N-No”.  She replied through her sobs. 

I pulled the young girl up to the shoulder with the young man right behind her.  He was a bit frantic and wanted to drag the poor girl down the roadway in the direction of the gathering crowd.  “No” I insisted.  “She could be going into shock and she needs to sit down before she falls down again”. He looked at me and nodded and ran off to some unknown direction.  I sat the young lady down and asked her name.  “Me-Meaghan” she replied, still crying.  She had a pretty, oval shaped face with long blond hair.  She could not have weighed 98 pounds soaking wet.  I asked her if she was OK.  I gave a cursory glance for any wounds and checked for any obvious compound fractures.  Still crying, she managed to let me know that she didn't believe that she was seriously hurt.  “How old are you kiddo” I asked.  “18” she said and drew another breath to continue her fit of anxiety.  I assured her that things were going to be OK.  At this point I looked up to see an middle aged woman trotting in our direction with some purpose.  I could see that this girl would be in good hands if I needed to run off to fetch that blanket.  I told the woman the young lady's name and that she might be going into shock.  “I’m going to run back to my truck and see if I have a blanket”.  I said, and quickly trotted back in the direction of my vehicle. 

It was right here that my little world suddenly crashed in on me.  As I looked up at the crowd that I had first seen running to the scene, I noticed that almost all of them- some 30 or 40 people, were all standing around in an almost semi circle, cell phones in hand, taking pictures and video of the event.  I looked over at the minivan still laying on it’s side in the median.  There were two or three people aggressively trying to get the drivers side door open.  Immediately behind them, some 25 or so people, arms outstretched, crowding in while holding their little black devices and pointing them at the action.  At once, I felt my lunch try to take leave of my stomach.  I suppressed the notion and realized that in my haste, I had not even thought to grab my phone out of the truck.  Now completely sickened,  I started back up in the direction of my vehicle.  Panic almost struck me as I started to wonder if any of these people had actually bothered to use those phones to call for help. 

I picked up the pace and ran past the first truck driver who now had his safety vest on and was directing traffic around the crowd.  Just as I reached my truck, I heard the sirens and breathed a heavy sigh of relief.  Someone had the sensibility to call after all.  As I climbed up, a police cruiser and two ambulances pulled up to the scene.  I watched two EMT workers head over in the direction where I had left the girl sitting on the side of the road.  Filled with confidence that she was now in better care than I could provide, I decided that myself and my truck were now more in the way of assistance than rendering it.   I sat down and started the truck and started to carefully ease it back into traffic. 

As I passed the scene, I noticed that the crowd of novice film producers were still aggressively working to hone their craft.  The sight once again sent tremors through my stomach and I was eager to depart the scene as quickly as I could.  As I drove away, I could not help but contemplate the absurdity of the things I had just witnessed.  Then the reality of it hit me full force: “They learned it from you” the voice in my head whispered. As I thought back over all the accident scenes I had photographed and documented in my 20 year career as a journalist, it sank in.  We taught these people this.  We showed them that there is some artificial value in documenting human misery and putting it on display for the our own sick satisfaction.   A new feeling washed over me: shame.  I was ashamed of what “media” had become.  The mad rush to get the next “thing” on your Twitbook page first so you can get some fake internet karma.  

I drove off wondering if what we have created may be our undoing.  If our instant information society may be more harmful in some ways than helpful.  I started to understand where the feelings of disgust and aggravation must come from that first responders exhibit toward this new breed of instant journalists.  I was reassured by the knowledge however, that there are still some people who can assess the situation and figure out what needs to be done: The people who worked to extract the driver from the minivan, the other truck driver, the young man who can run faster than this old man, and of course the first responders who arrived way faster than I thought possible.  I drove away knowing full well that I will probably never see that young lady again. I know that I left her in good hands and not much else about her.  But I do know this: Her name was Meaghan.  Which is a lot more that the people gawking at her picture on Facebook today will ever know about her.

But does she put out?

   In the six months or so since I started driving full time, I have had opportunity to learn many things.  I found out about being screwed.  I learned how to bend time.  Truck stops aren't what they used to be.  (They are generally cleaner with a lot less hookers and drugs).  I have also learned that if you commit to your cause and get on with the right company, they will reward your hard work well.  After several bouts of musical chairs, I finally landed myself into the seat of a truck that I am proud of and really enjoy driving,  Like most guys who land a sweet ride, I spent some time deciding on a a name for my new sweetheart.  I settled on “Dixie” for a variety of reasons.  I’ts a ritual that goes back as far as we have been riding horses to name your ride.  While pondering the reasons why guys always name their ride after a girl, I suddenly wondered: “If trucks were actually girls, what kind of girls would they be”?

KENWORTH: 

KW’s would be the athletic girl.  She is in reasonably good shape.  She looks pretty good.  She can run hard sometimes.  But she believes that she is way hotter than she really is.  KW looks ok in jewelry (chrome) but starts to look slutty if you give her too much.

PROSTAR:  

The prostar is the virgin.  Kinda cute but homely.  No makeup, fun personality but she is not fast or loose.  Good luck getting to second base, especially if you gotta travel uphill to do it.  Light jewelry for her-anything else looks silly.

FREIGHTLINER:

   Freightliner is the girl next door. Sometimes she is hot in a very subtle way.  Sometimes she is homely and would look a lot better if she cleaned herself up a bit.  She is sometimes carrying around a lot of baggage and because of this she breaks down a lot.  But she is easy to pick up and she will give just about anyone a cheap ride.  Even though she usually is not the best lookin girl in the bar, she is the Rosie the Riveter of the trucking industry.  She endures because she works hard for her money

VOLVO: 

 

The Volvo is the kinda hot foreign exchange student.  She is a bit exotic and different and fun to be around.  Easy to get along with and likes fancy clothes.  Problem is her fancy clothes cost a LOT of money, and when she has a breakdown, she loves to go shopping-with your money. Jewelry is optional

INTERNATIONAL EAGLE:  

The Eagle is the Catholic Schoolgirl.  Pretty simple clothes, generally charming and proper.  Easy to get along with. Every once in a while you can find one that’s fast and loose, and when you do, lookout.  Jewelry is sinful—no jewelry.

PETERBILT 579. 

  The 579 is the cute and reserved librarian chick.  Does not wear fancy clothes or show off her body.  Does not like jewelry in public.  But get her alone in a dark room with some jazz music and she will show you her inner tiger,

LONESTAR: 

 The Lonestar is the girl who wears way too much makeup.  She never fails to make herself look slutty. She is trying way too hard to be a prom queen when all it would take is to clean herself up a bit to look nice.   Guys always give her way too much jewelry to try to make her look like a stripper.

MACK.

  Macks are the bull dykes.  Enough said.

PETERBILT 379.  

 The 379 is the stripper at the club.  You know: the place where you can look but don’t touch.  Sometimes shes really hot, sometimes not so much.   To put it bluntly, she is the slut--every guy has been in her. Looks great in jewelry.  Has her own clothing line. You can see the jealousy in the eyes of the other men as you leave they club with her--but the jokes on you, you're gonna be sticky, broke and confused in the morning.

WESTERN STAR:

  The trophy wife. Looks great in everything.  Fantastic body.  You have never spent any time with her because you cant afford it, but you can tell just by looking that she is fast, loose and fun.  And the guy who hangs out with her is in debt up to his eyeballs, but he still manages to draw your envy.

CABOVER: 

 The cabover is the cougar that is hanging around the bar at 2:00 AM looking to score with some young stud.  You know for sure that you are not the first guy she has been with, but you might be the last. She can teach you things you never thought you would need to know. Every once in a while you see one that looks pretty hot, but generally, she is just a shadow of  her younger self.. 

Oh, Oh, Ohio.

Somewhere on northbound Interstate 75 in northern Kentucky:

GPS:  “State Border Ahead.”

Me: “Oh sweet, finally.”

GPS: “Crossing Border. Entering Ohio.”

GPS:  “ROAD CONSTRUCTION AHEAD!”

Me: “Oh well, better slow down and take it easy.”

GPS: “Road Narrows Ahead.”

Me: “I see that, better take it back another notch.”

GPS: “ROAD CONSTRUCTION AHEAD!”

Me “Yeah, I heard you the first time.”

GPS: ROAD CONSTRUCTION NEXT 40 MILES!”

Me: “Gonna be a long day.”

GPS: “ONE LANE ROAD AHEAD!”

Me: “sigh”

***38 miles later***

GPS: “ROAD CONSTRUCTION AHEAD!”

Me: “What? Really?”

GPS: “Yes, really.”

ME: “grumble”

GPS: “ROAD CONSTRUCTION AHEAD!”

Me: “Yeah Yeah, I know.”

GPS: “STEEP DOWNGRADE AHEAD.”

ME: “What? (easing off the throttle)This is Ohio”

GPS: “I know, just kidding.”

GPS: “ROAD CONSTRUCTION AHEAD!”

ME: “Argh.”

GPS: “ROAD CONSTRUCTION AHEAD!”

Me: “How far have we come into Ohio?”

GPS: :”113 Miles.  ROAD CONSTRUCTION AHEAD!”

Me: “Okay, it’s been a long day, lets pull over and get something to eat.  Where can I find a restaurant?”

GPS: “7 Miles ahead.”

Me: “Perfect, lets go there.”

GPS: “Rerouting----ROAD CONSTRUCTION AHEAD!.”

GPS:  “Take the exit on the right, then turn right.

Me: “I can see the restaurant is to the left.”

GPS: “Turn Right”

Me: “Im turning left.”

GPS: “Suit yourself.  MAKE A U-TURN THEN TURN RIGHT.”

Me (Pulling over) “I’m not listening to you.” (gets out)

GPS: “ROAD CONSTRUCTION AHEAD!”

***20 minutes later***

Me: “Ok lets go.”

GPS: “ROAD CONSTRUCTION AHEAD.”

ME: “Yeah I know.”

GPS: “ROAD CONSTRUCTION NEXT 50 MILES.”

Me: “GPS is there an easier way around this construction?”

GPS: “Calculating……calculating…..rebooting.”

Me: “Sigh—OK Google”

Phone: “Hello Howie”

Me: “ Ok, Google, navigate to Detroit Michigan.”

Phone: “Opening Maps.”

GPS: “What was that?”

Me: “Nothing.”

GPA: “Are you using another device!?”

Me: “uh, no. NO!”

Phone: “I found three possible routes to Detroit.”

GPS: “ARE YOU NAVIGATING WITH YOUR PHONE!?.  ROAD CONSTRUCTION AHEAD.”

GPS: “How many devices have you been using all this time? Recalculating”

Me: (Mutes phone) “There.  I shut it off.”

GPS: “Recalculating.”

Me: “?”

GPS: In two miles, take the exit on the right, then turn left.”

Me:  “NO! That will take me 20 miles out of route.”

GPS: “Recalculating……. In seven miles, take the exit on the right, then turn right.”

ME: “NO!”

GPS: “ROAD CONSTRUCTION AHEAD.”

Muted Phone: “Your wife is calling.”

Me: “GPS, where are we?”

GPS: “Just outside Cincinnati”.

Me: “Ok then”

Muted Phone: “Your wife is calling.”

GPS: “Steep Incline ahead.”

Me: “I’m not falling for that again.”

GPS: “ROAD CONSTRUCTION AHEAD.”

Me: “Yeah I kno—HOLY CRAP (downshifting) THAT’S A STEEP DOWNGRADE!”

GPS: “I tried to tell you.”

Me: “How far until the state border?”

GPS: “About 40 miles.”

Muted Phone: “Don’t believe her.”

GPS: “ROAD CONSTRUCTION NEXT 40 MILES.”

Me: “Figures.” (Answers wife's call)

****30 minutes later****

Me: “How far til the state line?”

GPS: “5 miles”

GPS: “ROAD CONSTRUCTION AHEAD.”

Me: “How long does this road construction last?”

GPS: “5 Miles”

Me: “Of Course.”

GPS: “What?”

Me: “Nothing.”

GPS: “State Border ahead.”

Me: “Finally!”

GPS: Crossing State Border, Entering Michigan.  ROAD CONSTRUCTION AHEAD.”

Me:” ………. I shoulda bought a Garmin”

GPS: “WHAT!?”

Me: “Oh, nothing.”

GPS: “Recalculating…..”

On a serious note:  I have seen recently where the lawmakers in Ohio are proposing banning semi trucks on Ohio roadways because they claim it destroys the roads.  I would submit to you that if the elected officials would stop stealing taxpayer moneys to fund their pet projects and use them for their intended purpose, the roadways would be just fine.  Missouri citizens passed a law about 10 years ago that forced officials to do just that--and within a decade their roads went from 2nd worst in the country to the top ten list. Use your heads people.  Stop voting for crooks.  Until then, I will not spend a dime of my money in Ohio if I can avoid it....RECALCULATING ROUTE.