The Transmission......and Associated Struggles

October 15, 2018

A cold, day with small patches of snow in shady corners. The sun was shining. The Passenger was reading The America that Almost Was aloud to the Trucker, and fighting sleep that slurred her words.

The Trucker shifted gears, and a grating, grinding noise emanated from under the hood. He quickly shifted back. Time froze. The wheels kept rolling. The Trucker tried again, the noise repeated. He said, “This can’t be happening. Not again.” The words came out as a groan.

It was October 15, eleven miles outside of Lincoln, Nebraska, and the transmission had given notice.

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Early June, leaving the Philadelphia Market in heavy rain, a car hydroplaned on the Schuylkill Expressway, bent the truck’s bumper, took off the driver’s steps, and added a few scratches. No injuries, but no insurance on the part of the other driver either.

The next trip, in mid June, a draw tube broke off in a fuel tank.  This called for a tow, out in Idaho, and a comedy of errors til the cause of the shutdown was diagnosed and remedied, a two and a half day delay.  Had the cause been known at the beginning, simply shutting off that tank would have sufficed.  

The following trip, in July, the turbo went out unexpectedly and way before its time, calling for another tow into Kearney, Nebraska. This was a two day delay. The engine was not properly cleaned out, resulting in the new turbo being ruined immediately, with great risk to the recently overhauled engine. After babying the hesitating truck to the west coast and back, the damage was discovered, cleaned out, and yet another new turbo was purchased and installed. The shop where the original work was done refused any responsibility, so the Trucker paid, again.

Mid September, the call came from Ritzville, Washington. An accident. Again. A woman had a diabetic issue, accelerated across the median, and rammed the driver’s side fuel tank, after taking off the step once more. The front drive axle was knocked askew, the stack elbow smashed, more scratches, the suspension broken. It is believed that tears were shed on both ends of the phone connection. Discouragement, frustration, the cumulative effects of two years of grief, loss, and wondering where to go from here, coupled with extreme gratitude that the woman lived, and no fire resulted from the crash.

There was the obtaining of a rental, finishing the trip, returning the rental to Seattle, and various modes of transportation to Bozeman, Montana, where DS#2’s car had been abandoned for repairs a month earlier. Then the driving home of a small, troubled car. A very stressful trip for a Trucker running on fumes himself.

And the dear lady of the diabetic issues had no insurance either. A wait of two plus weeks before the insurance company’s verdict: repairable. We’ll send a check. God be praised. A friend committed to do the repairs. More decisions. The hunt for parts. More waiting.

On the morning of October 15, on the drop deck of a friend’s truck, the Wreck arrived at the shop to await further treatment. The Trucker could not be there to meet it, as he and his Passenger loaded up and headed out in an E & F truck the previous day, working for driver’s pay in the interim.

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The afternoon of October 15, the transmission.

The Passenger will spare details of limping eleven miles to the Kenworth dealer in Lincoln, Nebraska, the night in a motel, the Trucker’s mile hike to Penske for a rental, the switching of belongings, tools, food, and electronics to the rental, the deciding what to replace and what could be done without, the adjustments to use said rental efficiently.

The Passenger’s plan to experience electronic logs, and journal such, has evaporated. Best laid plans of mice and men once more. The Trucker is back to paper logs until switching back to the repaired truck enroute home. For now, deadlines loom, the load must be delivered.

But we wonder:

Is this normal life for some people, and we have been marvelously spared til recently?

Is this sequence of events somehow the Trucker’s fault?

Is this a spiritual attack?

When suffering a trial, one is tempted to think they are the only ones to have life so hard. In reality, as the Dread Pirate Roberts said to the Princess Bride in William Goldman’s classic, “Life is pain, Highness! Anyone who says differently is selling something.”

In every accident and breakdown, the Trucker was confirmed by the powers that be, to not have been the cause. Yet, doubts continually creep in. Am I still an able professional? And “what will people think?” But “people” were not there.

Just as “they” were not there when we raised our family. The only first person witness of our efforts is our God. Yet, “people” all have an opinion, for good toward us, or ill. And this is a perpetual weight, and a filter through which our emotions perceive all other events, despite our constant efforts to the contrary.

So, spiritual attack? Destroy our family, then level personal attacks. And when we were found still standing and moving forward by the grace of God, target the Trucker’s livelihood, which is to some degree a personal attack yet again.

It’s possible. But it then begs the question, why us? We, who desired to live quietly, serving where needed, the “quiet in the land?” What serious threat were we, to the physical or the spiritual world? No spiritual giants, we. Just average and striving for growth, honoring God as best we can.

After every round of grief and questions that have no answers, we come back to the same conclusion.

We cannot change a thing. There is nothing we can do. Except one.

Pray. Without ceasing.

Even when the heavens are silent. Even when we have no words. Even when nothing changes. Even when we falter, feeling unworthy to approach His throne. Prayer is commanded of God’s people. And He will answer, in His time.

Psalm 13 King James Version (KJV)

How long wilt thou forget me, O Lord? for ever? how long wilt thou hide thy face from me? How long shall I take counsel in my soul, having sorrow in my heart daily? how long shall mine enemy be exalted over me? Consider and hear me, O Lord my God: lighten mine eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of death; Lest mine enemy say, I have prevailed against him; and those that trouble me rejoice when I am moved. But I have trusted in thy mercy; my heart shall rejoice in thy salvation. I will sing unto the Lord, because he hath dealt bountifully with me.

Habakkuk 2 King James Version (KJV)

I will stand upon my watch, and set me upon the tower, and will watch to see what he will say unto me, and what I shall answer when I am reproved. And the Lord answered me, and said, Write the vision, and make it plain upon tables, that he may run that readeth it. For the vision is yet for an appointed time, but at the end it shall speak, and not lie: though it tarry, wait for it; because it will surely come, it will not tarry.