I know your life
On earth was troubled
And only you could know the pain
You weren't afraid to face the devil
You were no stranger to the rain

Go rest high on that mountain
Son, your work on earth is done
Go to heaven a shoutin'
Love for the Father and Son
-- Vince Gill, "Go Rest High On That Mountain"

"Put that motherfucker in the wind and come home, driver!"
-- Randy Smith, 1954-2006

A good friend of mine passed away on Labor Day weekend. Randy was my dispatcher, my "travel agent" at work, if you will. I didn't have the privilege of knowing him for long, but we sure made friends in a hurry. I liked him instantly, alot. That's why this is hard for me to write, and why I haven't been on here lately.

I know the details of his death but that's personal. Personal to him, his family, and me. No, I won't talk about it. Instead, I'll remember the good stuff here with a few stories.

His family insisted that us drivers all sit in the front pews with the family, because that's what we were to him. We also had a funeral procession of trucks on the way to the church. That too was the family's idea. There we were, a dozen or more of us, going to our friend's funeral, all lights on, a red truck flying an American flag, followed by a white truck, then a blue one, then all the rest of us fell in behind. Under other circumstances, it would've been beautiful. Randy's family walked out to look at the line-up after we parked. You could've heard a pin drop while we waited for them to walk back. Randy's dad told us later he was "doing fine until I saw that. That was nice. That was really nice. Randy would've loved it." His dad's eyes misted over, and he said to me while we were shaking hands, "He told me he had the best drivers in the business, and he always thought of you guys as family." I just nodded my head. There was nothing to say, he'd said it all.

This guy never lied to me once when Bad Shit happened in the trucking business. Most times, he'd have my backhaul waiting for me when I called in. But if I was gonna have to sit a while, the first thing out of his mouth would be "you're gonna hate this shit, but I can't do anything for ya right now." That's a rare quality in a dispatcher. Most of 'em will tell you anything so they can avoid the ugly truth. He told a few other people at the company that he wished he had a dozen more just like me. He said I didn't bitch and moan, I was never late and was always early, and I was always ready for the next load. I mentioned to him one time that trucking wasn't rocket science but it sure wasn't easy either. He said "nope, very few people can succeed at it because it wears your ass out and nobody can bail you out when you get in deep shit. And most of those guys who think it's rocket science couldn't read their own diplomas, let alone design rockets."

"Put that motherfucker in the wind and come home, driver!" He told me that every week when I'd call in to tell him I was loaded for the last trip of the week. Not "go home." It was always "come home." One week, I was stuck in Dallas on a Friday afternoon because the company that was receiving the office furniture I'd taken down there wasn't "ready" for the shipment. The freight broker tried in vain to talk Randy into having me sit in Dallas from Friday evening until the company could unload me on Monday sometime. He told her there was no way one of his drivers was gonna miss his home time that week because the company was too lazy to get their end of the deal done. She started offering money, starting at $100, and he told her if she offered enough to fly me round trip "to the house" and I was open to the offer he'd consider it.

The guy had balls, and he was in the right. We had a signed contract with them and they dropped the ball. He told me on the phone that afternoon that it wasn't about the money, it was about the principle of the thing. "I take care of my drivers," he said. He wasn't kidding either. He knew we could lose money on that load, and he knew he was gonna be called a "freight pirate" again, but I was going home if he had to come and get me himself. That was the part he wasn't going to budge an inch on, and she knew it. She played freight poker and got her ass kicked by a master. He thanked me profusely several times for not losing my cool over the whole deal, and I told him I knew he had my back.

At his funeral, the pastor told of a time another member of the congregation asked Randy about a noise her car was making. When he realized it wasn't anything serious, he asked her if she'd had the air in her tires rotated lately. He carefully explained to her that the air could get old, and cause all kinds of noises. So she took it to a tire shop, and they changed the air for her. And charged her $10. Every trucker sitting in that second row giggled when the pastor told that story. Even the ones who cried like babies when they played that Vince Gill song, me included. That was Randy. He'd fuck with ya, but he'd do it for fun, and you couldn't get pissed when it was over with.

I called in one time to tell him I was being unloaded, i.e. I'd be available for a backhaul shortly. I was delivering a day early, and I loved doing that to him. He'd say "Well, I guess I gotta get to work", and he'd go find me something. I was feeling pretty cocky when I called him, and when he didn't recognize my voice when I said "I'm empty", he said "who's this?" Being the smartass I am, I said "I'm not tellin' ya, you figger it out." And being the smartass he was, he said "Ok, call me back in three hours." I laughed my ass off cuz he had me there. You can't make money when the truck's sitting, and he knew I'd wanna run.

The funniest thing he ever said to me was during another phone call - one of maybe half a dozen that day. Normally, I never call unless I'm empty, but on this day I'd had to call him repeatedly about the load I'd delivered, then about the load I was picking up. So when I called that last time, I was already laughing out loud ...

Me: I swear this is the last time you'll hear from me today.
Randy: That's what you said last time, driver.
Me: Yeah, but I didn't swear. I'm delivering this tomorrow, when do they want it?
Randy: They want it the day after tomorrow but they'll take it when you get there. If you're gonna be there tomorrow I'll find a load for you by then.
Me: Works for me. I'll be sitting there bored by the time you get outta bed. Oh, and don't tell my wife how much we've talked today, she'll think I like you in the carnal knowledge sense.

Randy changes his voice into a softer, loving Oprah-type, then says:

Randy: Your secret's safe with me. You just call anytime you need to talk.

I was in hysterics then. I was still laughing at that one most of the way to Atlanta. He was the perfect model for being sarcastic when he wanted to be. I'm not doing that story justice, but I'll guarantee you it wouldn't have been any more funny if he'd put on a dress to say that line. He could've won an Oscar for his performance.

Another time I was at home, and was cleaning the truck in the back yard. I had Sirius' Buzz station cranked on the radio, and I do mean cranked. I'm old, I need high volume. And of course Randy chose that moment to call me at home to get some info from a shipper's bill of lading that I had with me. I told him to hang on a second, then climbed in the truck to get the papers. He said "Damn, driver, what the hell was that?" I said "Kid Rock. He's what they call a rock star. You should get outta the house more, you'd know that already." He said "Oh I know what rock is, believe me." At the funeral, amongst a group of pictures of Randy, was one of him working on a mixing board with a huge tower of speakers behind him. I pointed it out to Bruce, another driver that had known Randy for years, and asked "What the hell is that?" Bruce told me Randy had been a sound tech for either Steppenwolf or The Who, he couldn't remember for sure which it was. "He was an old hippy like us." I guess he was.

I was amazed at the visitation how well his wife Tammy was holding up. She was being a rock, even when she explained to MrsOldGuy and I that she wanted the drivers up front with family, and the drivers' wives all seated together farther back. "That's the way he would've wanted it. He loved all you guys like family so that's what I want too." I felt the urge to bite my lip so I wouldn't bawl like a big baby. I'd known for four days that he was dead but it just hadn't sunk in yet. It was too surreal a concept to be real, but there was that cremation urn on the table, and reality sunk in hard.

The next day at the funeral she still appeared to be bulletproof, but all that changed the second the ushers walked her up the aisle to her seat. When she sat down, she started shaking so bad I thought she was gonna literally fall to pieces. Randy obviously loved her alot. He told me once that it was his third marriage, and he hadn't been married to the first two for very long at all. But him and Tammy had something special, and they both knew it. I felt bad for her, really bad. After the service, when the visitors were going to the front to pay their condolences, I watched her and MrsOldGuy. When MrsOldGuy leaned in to give Tammy a hug, Tammy closed her eyes, wrapped her arms all the way around, pulled MrsOldGuy in as close as she could get her, and held on tight. Person by person, she picked up another miniscule grain of courage and healing and love and whatever else womenfolk give to others. She'll make it. It won't be easy and the pain will never go away completely, but she'll make it. And she'll miss him forever.

And so will I. For well over a week I listened to the girls in the office sniffling, but we've all held it together just like a real, traditional family. Part of that is because Margaret asked us to stick with the company until we could get over the rough spots. But most of it's because of the way Randy treated us. It just ain't the same without him there.

Loved ya like a brother, Buddy. I never got to tell you that in person because I never felt the need, but I'm telling you now.

"Nice meetin' ya, driver. They call me Batman when they're not mad at me. You have a smooth ride that way and be safe. Catch ya on the flipside."

I close my eyes,
Only for a moment
and the moment's gone
All my dreams,
Pass before my eyes,
a curiosity

Dust in the wind,
all we are is dust in the wind

Same old song,
Just a drop of water
in an endless sea
All we do,
Crumbles to the ground,
though we refuse to see

Dust in the wind,
all we are is dust in the wind
Dust in the wind,
all we are is dust in the wind

Don't hang on,
Nothing last forever but the earth and sky
It slips away,
And all your money won't another minute buy

Dust in the wind,
all we are is dust in the wind
Dust in the wind,
all we are is dust in the wind

-- Kansas, "Dust In The Wind"

Randy Smith, 1954-2006