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Get your map and find the I-90/I-94 junction. Between the eastern and western ends of that interchange--it's a couple miles long--is, on the westbound side, a 1.5-mile-long straight stretch. A half-mile from the western end of the stretch is where I was when I got hit.
I tell ya what, if you want to gain a LOT of new friends REAL quick, go out in a truck that quits running then gets totaled. I got calls from operations, breakdown, accident hotline, safety department, risk management...so far I haven't gotten one from the CEO but I'm sure that's coming. I've been saying this truck was going to die for a while now. The first question they all have is, of course, "are you all right? Are you sure you're all right?" Well yeah, if you're standing well away from the truck you're going to be at least physically all right. Mentally is another story. I'm still sitting here in shock thinking "how in hell could this have happened?" Our equipment is white. It sticks out like a sore thumb. I walked 500 feet away from it--this happened at 2:45am--and could read every word on the trailer by the light of the moon. The insurance adjuster can't figure out how it happened. The cops can't figure it out. The truck was passed by at least fifty other trucks.
I'm really kinda glad this happened this way--I figured one of five things was going to happen when the truck finally quit for good. I figured I'd either throw a rod while crossing a railroad track and have to run for my life; I'd break down in the path of oncoming traffic and die in the collision; someone would ass-end the trailer and we'd lose a load (we have cargo insurance but try to explain to a customer their load is gone); I'd break down in a bad neighborhood and get murdered; or I'd freeze to death in the cab. Instead, I got ass-ended in the tractor while I was out of it. The crash isn't going to cost us much because we can part out the truck--it's got a decent Cummins ISX block that can be overhauled, it's got good fuel tanks, good front end, actually quite a few serviceable parts. (The mattress is another story. It is in perfect shape but there's about an eighth of an inch of foam between the ticking and the springs. They should put this mattress in Charles Manson's cell.) I got picked up before I could really get cold-soaked. The company got me a bus ticket home until Monday, when I get out of here to go get another truck. They are taking really good care of me.
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