Visiting one of my past lives

I took a step back into one of my past lives a few days ago. After not going there for several years, I went to Springfield, to the truck company I worked for, and visited the few people still working there that I know, and then met some of them for dinner. The occasion was instigated by one woman I was good friends with, she recently left the company (which isn’t even named what it was when I was there) to drive for another outfit, was home for a week and wanted to visit everyone. Just worked out right I had a day off when it happened. I haven’t seen her sine I left, over 9 years ago. Talked on email, on facebook, on the phone a couple of times, but haven’t seen each other, so it was really nice. Lot of catching up, general chit chat and laughing. Some ’have you heard about’ – both good and sad news.
Made me miss both the place and the driving. They all say it’s not the same as it was when I was there, and I can see that – Our little company has been absorbed by one of the owner’s other companies, and that’s not a change for the better from what they all were saying.
It was a good place to work, I thought. Small, everyone like family, always friendly and ready to talk, just to visit or to try to work out a problem. One reason I left is that the trying to work out problems part was not happening as much. There are other reasons as well, but that was one.
But for the 17 winters I was there, I was part of that family. I started as a rookie, with a few months of regional driving miles behind me, but with a whole lot to learn. There weren’t trainers as such and I mostly had to pick up things as I went, but I didn’t get into too much trouble. I remember being so pleased when the first partner they put me with said to the office, after my first shift driving ‘she does good – I slept for 8 hours’.
I went from that to being the ‘special projects’ trainer over the years there; it seemed every time they had a new driver that needed special attention, they gave them to me to train. Some worked out, some didn’t. Some I was proud to have a hand in, some wouldn’t have worked out no matter who tried. Oh well.
I got an award from the company at an annual driver’s dinner; I had done a collection for a special thing for Feed The Children, combining it with the theatre I think it was the 30th anniversary season, and collected things to donate to that group. That winter I won the Humanitarian Award. I had just made it in on the afternoon of the dinner, and didn’t have what I’d normally have worn to such an event with me, but put on a nice shirt and clean jeans and went – and was totally surprised to win something. A plaque and $250. Plus they let me take the things to FTC in Oklahoma City.
Same as they let me drop off the Evita coffin in Chicago on one run.
I felt part of the company. Even when I’d go visit in the summer, they’d stop to chat. And ask ‘you back?’ For a while I’d get The Bakery’s pumpkin donuts and take a couple of bags over when I went for my first trip, and so when I was ready to start in the fall I’d call and say ‘it’s pumpkin donut time!’ I called one time and was leaving a message for dispatch, and when the girl (someone new who didn’t know what it meant) repeated ‘tell him it’s pumpkin donut time?’ I could hear Kevin in the background yelling ‘She’s Back!’.
So many memories, mostly good, a few bad - I think I left before the bad got to be more than the good. But mainly what I remember is being part of it – of the company, of the people, of just driving in general, with the other drivers I was ‘one of them’. That’s a good memory.
Here’s what I think: yes, most of the time I’m fine to have left that behind me, but every now and then I sure do miss it. I was part of it, I belonged, I could do it. And I know I’m happy that they remember me and make me feel welcome, even after being away almost 10 years. And I think maybe I’ll try to put more stories about that life on here. Maybe, if I get to it.