I was out on the West Coast, tryin to make a buck and things didnt work out. I was down on my luck. Got tired roaming and bumming around So I started thumbing back East, toward my home town. Made a lot of miles, the first two days and I figured Id be home in week, if my luck held out this way, but, the third night I got stranded, way out of town at a cold, lonely crossroads, rain was pourin down. I was hungry and freezing. I caught a chill when the lights of a big semi topped the hill. Lord, I sure was glad to hear them air brakes come on, so I climbed in that cab, where I knew itd be warm. At the wheel sit a big man, he weighed about 210. He stuck out his hand and said with a grin: Big Joes the name I told him mine. And he said: The name of my rig is Phantom 309. I asked him why he called his rig such a name. He said: Son, this old Mack can put em all to shame There aint a driver, or a rig, a-runnin any line Aint seen nothin but taillights from Phantom 309. Well, we rode and talked the better part of the night when the lights of a truck stop came in sight. He said: Im sorry son, this is as far as you go Cause, I gotta make a turn, just on up the road. Well, he tossed me a dime as he pulled her in low. He said: Have yourself a cup on old Big Joe. When Joe and his rig roared out in the night he was gone in nothing flat, he was clean out of sight. Well, I went inside and ordered me a cup, I told the waiter Big Joe was setting me up. Aw!, you could have heard a pin drop; it got deathly quiet, and the waiters face turned kinda white. Well, did I say something wrong? I said with a halfway grin. He said: Naw, this happens every now and then. every driver in here knows Big Joe But son, let me tell you what happened about ten years ago. At the crossroads tonight, where you flagged him down There was a bus load of kids, comin from town and they were right in the middle, when Big Joe topped the hill. It could have been slaughter, but he turned his wheel. Well, Joe lost control, went into a skid and gave his life to save that bunch-a kids. There at that crossroads, was the end of the line for Big Joe and Phantom 309. But, every now and then, some hiker will come by and like you, Big Joell give em a ride. Here, have another cup and forget about the dime. Keep it as a souvenir, from Big Joe and Phantom 309.
Posted on: Sat, 02 Nov 2013 19:44:57 +0000
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