Without trucks, America stops

Here's a poem written by Dan Baker, a nationally-known speaker, teacher, and consultant to the trucking industry (visit his website from our Favorite Links section). He has also written a number of songs and poems, including the one below about the value of truckers in our everyday lives. It's a down-home, heartwarming story that captures the essence of our new understanding about trucking.

Daddy Was a Trucker
by Dan Baker

It was his turn next in Sunday School class,
To tell 'em what his daddy did.
The lesson that day was on the way,
That daddies loved their kids.

One kid's daddy was a doctor.
Another's was a CPA
The teacher said their daily bread,
Was bought with their daddy's pay.

The teacher looked at the little boy.
He could tell he was about to cry.
He figured something must be wrong,
So he quietly asked him why.

The little guy with tear-filled eyes,
Said, "Ya'll have all the luck,
Your dads are rich, they drive big cars,
And mine just drives a truck."

The teacher spun his wheelchair around;
He grimly faced the class.
"I've taught you well, but I'll burn in hell,
'fore I let that statement pass.

"You kids see me as a Sunday School teacher,
Just a cripple with a lesson plan.
But down inside these twisted legs,
Are the bones of a truckin' man.

"I was a high-rollin', hammer-stompin', pill-poppin' dude,
'Til the ice on Interstate 10,
Sent the finest ol' rig that a bank ever bought,
To the bottom of the Rio Grande.

"Not much to tell about what came next,
'Cept this ol' wheelchair I ride,
And now and then, I teach your class,
So the Lord will know I tried.

"And I've tried, young fellas; I've tried real hard,
Just to pay for all I've done.
But I'm gonna close the Good Book now,
And talk to the truckerman's son.

"He's a truckerman, son, do you hear me?
Don't give me that hang-dog look.
You're the son of a gear-jammin' king of the slab,
Who's a winner in any man's book.

"Who feeds you, boy? Does the grocery store?
Does the fast-food joint down the street?
Or some eighteen wheeler, runnin' all night long,
Bringin' home every bite you eat?

"There's not a thing you'll use today,
That some ol' trucker didn't bring.
Somebody's daddy rolled all night long,
So you could do your thing.

"Your thing, my thing, this country's thing,
The whole thing rolls on wheels.
We're kept alive by the men that drive.
These men God made out of steel.