The Case of the Killer Truck Driver

Having retired from the military and not yet having satisfied my wonderlust I took a job as a cross country truck driver. My grandson who was at the time only four years of age accompanied me quite frequently on trips. He was such a joy to have along and with his bright little mind there was never a dull moment.

On one such trip we left our home in Northeast Mississippi with a load to be delivered in Los Angeles. After travelling all weekend I was getting ready for a break. I pulled over in a rest area along the highway and told my grandson that I wanted to take a nap. He said, "But we have to go to California. If you want to sleep let's go home, if not then let's go to California." Well I guess you know that I did not get a nap...we went to California.

After my delivery and picking up a load coming back east we headed out for home. In Texas along I-20 the roadway is built up on bridges going through small towns like Sweetwater, Pecos, etc. We were passing through Sweetwater on such a bridge when suddenly a large bird flew into our windshield shattering it.

My grandson with eyes the size of saucers looked at me and exclained, "What was that!?"

I told him that something had tried to get into our truck. He said, "I think it was an eagle!"

"No, it was an owl." I explained to him how owls hunted for food such as small rodents and such and that the owl had probably dove for a field mouse or some such critter and flew into our windshield.

After travelling for several more miles he was still very quiet. I knew something was up because anytime he got that quiet something was going on in his little head. I asked him, "David, what are you thinking about?"

He said, "That bird didn't mean to break your window." I told him that I knew that...that it was an accident. He blurted out with tears streaming down his cheeks, "But you maked it die."

I said, "I know, but I didn't mean to...it was an accident. I didn't even see him until he hit the windshieldl."

He said, "You shoulda been payin' attention."

We drove on into Memphis with no more comotion. But as we were driving through Memphis a flock of black birds flew across the road up ahead of us. David told me, "That bird in the front was talking to the rest of the birds."

"Oh yeah?" I asked, "What was he saying?"

"He was sayin', 'Stay away from that fool in that big white truck, he'll run over you.'"