When I lost my job at the factory a few years ago, a displaced worker program paid for an Associate’s Degree in Accounting and another in Computer Information Technology. Considering that I’d always earned my bread by the sweat of my brow, I was sort of hoping that I could find a job where my mental experience and common sense could come into play. However, I ended up spending four years doing telemarketing, until THAT company shut down. I’d looked into getting my CDL on my own, in the past, but decided that it was too problematic at the time. After only two interviews in eleven months of trying for sales clerk or delivery positions in locally-owned stores, I was reminded by a possible employer that I might qualify for CDL training through the unemployment office. SO, since I have past experience driving a straight-frame, and enjoyed it, I figured I’d go for it.
I had an appointment yesterday to give a lady some copies of paperwork from my last round of unemployment training eight years ago. (If I hadn’t kept it, I’d probably have had to go through a month of mostly useless classes before I’d have been allowed to enter The CDL program they offer.) Then, I had two workshops, neither of which benefited me, though we did have a nice instructor who made the time bearable. Tomorrow, I may do the drug test to get things rolling. Sometimes, it gets a little old jumping through hoops just to please bureaucrats.
On the way home, I was stopped about a mile from home by a flatbed semi blocking the road. He’d tried making the hairpin turn on our road but didn’t. His outside trailer tires dropped into a near bottomless hole at the very edge of the pavement and the back of the trailer flipped, nearly upside-down, over the guardrail and slid a little ways down the almost straight hillside below. It twisted the trailer like a piece of thin cardboard, so that the middle of the trailer was nearly vertical, side to side, while the front end was more level, but stuck up in the air over the pavement nearly six feet in the air. The tractor was being held by the fifth-wheel pin so that the driver’s side wheels were nearly six feet off the ground, also, leaving the tractor on about a 45 degree angle sideways. I was apparently the first person on the scene and a young fellow, who’d probably not seen thirty yet, came walking back to me. I asked if he was okay and he assured me that he was. I asked if he wanted me to call 911 to get him some help and he said yes, because he didn’t even know where to tell them to come. I turned the pickup around as I was on the phone, telling him that even though I was heading home, I WOULD see to it that he got the help he needed.
At bedtime, six-and-a-half hours from the time I’d called 911, a small army of emergency vehicles and tow-trucks, all lights ablaze, went by our house with the twisted remains of the wrecked truck. I would really hate to be in that poor kid’s shoes the next time he sees his boss. © 2013