July 23, 1963 The Frances Hubbard diaries

July 23, 1963

Tuesday, partly cloudy,  70’s.  Gerald took charcoal to PA for Joe (Gallo). I baked rolls, cleaned up the house, and fixed a couple of dresses.  Carol and I went over to camp at night and saw Sue.

Comment:  Timberland Charcoal had a kind joint venture with a charcoal plant in Bradford, PA.  Timberland would sometimes manufacture charcoal for them with their Bradford brand and they would sometimes make charcoal for Timberland with the Timberland brand on the packages.  I had several bad experiences on those runs.  On one trip, I was on the road from Bradford for about an hour and blew a tire on the trailer on an inside dual wheel.  A flat tire on a loaded truck will heat up to the point of spontaneous combustion and so it had to be changed.  I drove it until it started smoking, then stopped and changed the tire.  It was terrible.  Hotter than hell.  The lug nuts came off only with great difficulty and just handling those 12 ply truck tires was an athletic event.  It probably took me about three hours and then I had to drive from about Olean, NY to Stamford..about 250 miles...at least another 6 or 7 hours in a loaded truck.  And I was getting only mileage at 8 cents per mile..Here are some more of my experiences:

Gerry Hubbard · David Does Truck Driving Memories By Gerry Hubbard

Truck Driving

I’ve hauled bark for Timberland to make charcoal briquettes

Getting paid 8 cents a mile, I took all I could get.

Brockway diesels, Screaming Jimmies, Mack B63’s

Concrete batch truck, Andrews Air Base, Washington DC

I drove to put  myself through school, just trying to change my luck

Off the farm, then just discharged I drove those damned old trucks.

I’ve  hauled clinker, ice, and milk, and charcoal by the ton 

Double clutching, jamming gears making midnight runs.

Quarts of Pepsi with no food kept me tightly wired

Sleep-deprived hallucinations, always over-tired

Triplex, Duplex, straight 5-speeds with vacuum  shift rear ends

5-speed mains -auxiliary 3’s, combos without end

I  always got them figured out sometimes while on the road

And I always drove those damned old trucks, as fast as they would go

I’ve left smoking strips of rubber and watched those big duals burn

When I locked them up to miss a car as they made a no-left turn

I’ve endured  the deadly boredom then the special thrill

When I blew the air brake diaphragms at the top of a steep hill

I’ve passed semis 3 abreast on  narrow 2 lane roads

Trying to keep momentum up with twenty-five-ton loads

I’ve seen my trailer in my mirrors skid and come around

And damn near jack knife tires sliding on the icy ground

I’ve rolled backward down a hill in a state of abject terror

When I missed a shift and stalled it out and my trailer brakes lost air

I got it started, revved it up, and jammed it  into low

The tractor reared high in the air when I popped the clutch to go

So when I’m on the interstate and see a big rig roll

I want to be there in that  seat but I guess now I’m too old

I know I’ll probably never get to go back to those times

But  sometimes just before I sleep I hear a diesel whine

And I feel the  deep vibrations of a big rig in my bones

And I drive a midnight highway, fast and young and wild,  alone.

And I feel the  deep vibrations of a big rig in my bones

And I drive a midnight highway, fast and young and wild,  alone.