My Daddy is Just a Truck Driver Author: Dan Baker It was sharing time in Sunday School Class, what does your Daddy do? One boy's dad was a Doctor and another one's dad was a C.P.A. The teacher said " Their daily bread was bought with their daddy's pay." Then the teacher looked at a little boy and could tell he was about to cry, so the teacher figured something must be wrong. He quietly ask him why? The little boy replied with tear filled eyes, ya'll have all the luck. All your daddies are rich, they drive big cars and have important jobs. My daddy just drives a truck. The teacher spun his wheel chair around and grimly faced the class. He said " I've taught you well, but I'll burn in Hell, before I'll 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 stomping, pill poppin' Dude till the ice on Interstate 10 took the finest old rig that a bank ever bought to the bottom of the Rio Grande. There ain't much to tell about what came next, except this ole wheel chair that I ride, and now and then I teach this class so the Good Lord will know I tried. And I tried young fellows, I tried real hard just to pay for all I done, but I'm going to close this Good Book now and I'm going to talk to this truckin' man's son. He's a Truckin' Man, boy do you hear me? Don't give me that hang dog look, your daddy is a gear jamming king of the road. He's a winner in any mans book. Who feeds you kid? Does a grocery store or the fast food joint down the street, or does some Eighteen Wheeler running all night long bring you every bite you eat? There ain't a thing you'll use today that some ole trucker didn't bring. Somebody's daddy rode all night long so you can do your thing, my thing, this country's thing, this whole thing rolls on wheels. We are kept alive by these men who drive, these men God made out of steel. You just can't jam gears for thirty years without learning a thing or two. If a country don't move then a country don't eat, and that brings me back to you. The next time you talk about your daddy, you understand son, you're talking about the Man. You're the son of a hard headed, proud thinking Hoss who just don't fit in most folks plans. He is the man that takes this country where it goes, and I just hope that somewhere down inside, that someday you will feel that pride that I used to feel pushing that ole road". The teacher seemed to lose his concentration. You could see the memories flooding through his brain, his eyes were fixed a million miles from where he sat, as the driver inside slowly spoke his inner pain. He said "I don't know what they will ever say about me. Let them call me whatever they want to fit their plan. I just hope they write the truth upon my gravestone and more than anything, I was a Trucker Man." I'll never know what happened to that teacher, just a wounded Angel grounded from the road. A trucker man that taught me daddy was the finest man that this truckin' man will ever, ever know.