A Dark and Rainy Night

Just after darkness had fallen, on Sunday evening, June 10, the green Kenworth roared up our road and stopped by the mailbox.  The Trucker helped me toss out duffle bags, laundry bags, computer bag, dirty dishes bag.

Then he was on to the Philadelphia Produce Market to deliver the load.  As he said, the load "belonged to someone named Granny, and all I know about her is that her last name is Smith."  It's what happens to a sense of humor after too many days of engine noise and diesel fumes.

This Passenger unpacked, organized, began loads of laundry, washed dishes, dug food from the freezer to thaw.  Cats were fed.  Plants got their first drink in a week.

After unloading, the Trucker planned to go on back to the shop where the trailer was to be dropped for new tires, and sleep there, coming home later in the morning.  The Passenger generally stays up til hearing that he is settled for the night.

On this night, uneasiness ruled.  No discernible reason.  Just uneasiness.  The night was unusually dark.  Sheets of rain poured down.  The proverbial "It was a dark and rainy night."  The Passenger (that would be me) parked at the desk to work on updating a contact list.  12:30AM, the phone rings.  Way too early for the Trucker to be settled at the shop.  His voice is tense, the words choppy.

"I've had an accident.  Don't worry, no one was hurt.  It will be a while til I am done."  The words were heard before, but are never welcome.  They were not the jolt, but the tone of voice in which they were said, was.

We talked, he describing what happened, as the rain drenched him and the emergency workers.  I asked questions, listened, encouraged, waited.  Then another call, saying he was free to leave.  Then flooded roads stalled traffic, and he needed to stay awake as the long day and adrenaline rush faded.

A very short night, and a few long days to deal with insurance (and the lack thereof, in the case of the other driver) and repairs.  Eventually enough sleep happened to allow feeling somewhat rested.

We are grateful.  There was no loss of life.  The Trucker was not injured stepping out of the truck into the dark deluge, unaware his steps had been ripped away.  The repairs can be done by the Trucker.  Insurance is available if needed.  And since his repair work must to be accomplished outdoors in our driveway, the sunny, cool weather was an extra blessing.

It was a dark and rainy night, on the Schuykill Expressway in Philadelphia.

Firemen surrounded the hapless Lexus, and yanked it from where it came to

rest just behind the drive tires.  It will not be driving again.

They also unbent the bumper enough that it no longer scraped the tire.  And then

 the Trucker could pull to the roadside til investigations were completed.

The bottom step is gone, a fact the Trucker didn't know til his foot landed in

empty air.  So thankful no injury resulted.

Then there was the matter of the bent step brackets.

The Trucker is up to any challenge...

He uses the tools available.  A good yank from the Chevy, and all was in line again.

Lights off the bumper, and a bend where bends shouldn't be.  A new bumper is

in order, and that is not all bad.

The new bumper, with the old in the foreground.

A smaller version the Trucker has been wanting

to try, and now is as good a time as any.

And here is the Trucker's late father, in 2016, with his own bumper.  

The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

Or maybe it's the bumper from the truck?