A true story from my days on the road...
It's Always The Driver's Fault
I picked up the truck at the company headquarters in Baltimore, Maryland with a trailer loaded for Los Angeles, California to be delivered in two weeks. Since I only needed 5 days to get there I knew that meant I'd be doing a quick drop and hook on the LA/Compton terminal yard and with any luck would get a load straight out to North Carolina.
It was no sooner than I'd shifted into 13th gear for the first time that I noticed the transmission was roaring in a way that Fuller Roadranger transmissions don't usually roar. It was back in the days before cell phones so I took the next exit and found a pay phone. "You don't know what you're talking about," the shop foreman told me rudely. "That's a newly rebuilt transmission and I checked it myself. There's nothing wrong with it. Do you want me to tell dispatch you're just trying to get out from under a load?"
What was I to do? I was out ranked. If I refused to drive the truck I would be fired. If I drove it a transmission worth thousands of dollars would be destroyed. I climbed back in the rig and hauled ass in the hope that wherever it finally quit wouldn't be out in the middle of nowhere. With each passing hour the roar got louder.
Ten days later I steered into my home terminal in Greensboro, North Carolina. The roar was so loud and so unusual that the terminal manager-- a former driver who had worked his way through the ranks-- heard it from inside his office and came outside to investigate.
As if the truck had planned it, when another driver attempted to drive the truck to a local shop to diagnose the noise the transmission seized, blocking the terminal gates and requiring a tow truck before it could be moved. Word came down from Baltimore that I was to be fired immediately as repairs were going to cost thousands.
When the local shop removed the transmission they made an interesting discovery. It seems whoever had rebuilt the transmission in Baltimore had left out what was some apparently tiny but important parts. The local shop mechanics and the Baltimore shop mechanics agreed it would have been impossible for me to have removed those parts without having my own shop to work in.
I kept my job but it's always the driver's fault.
It's Always The Driver's Fault
I picked up the truck at the company headquarters in Baltimore, Maryland with a trailer loaded for Los Angeles, California to be delivered in two weeks. Since I only needed 5 days to get there I knew that meant I'd be doing a quick drop and hook on the LA/Compton terminal yard and with any luck would get a load straight out to North Carolina.
It was no sooner than I'd shifted into 13th gear for the first time that I noticed the transmission was roaring in a way that Fuller Roadranger transmissions don't usually roar. It was back in the days before cell phones so I took the next exit and found a pay phone. "You don't know what you're talking about," the shop foreman told me rudely. "That's a newly rebuilt transmission and I checked it myself. There's nothing wrong with it. Do you want me to tell dispatch you're just trying to get out from under a load?"
What was I to do? I was out ranked. If I refused to drive the truck I would be fired. If I drove it a transmission worth thousands of dollars would be destroyed. I climbed back in the rig and hauled ass in the hope that wherever it finally quit wouldn't be out in the middle of nowhere. With each passing hour the roar got louder.
Ten days later I steered into my home terminal in Greensboro, North Carolina. The roar was so loud and so unusual that the terminal manager-- a former driver who had worked his way through the ranks-- heard it from inside his office and came outside to investigate.
As if the truck had planned it, when another driver attempted to drive the truck to a local shop to diagnose the noise the transmission seized, blocking the terminal gates and requiring a tow truck before it could be moved. Word came down from Baltimore that I was to be fired immediately as repairs were going to cost thousands.
When the local shop removed the transmission they made an interesting discovery. It seems whoever had rebuilt the transmission in Baltimore had left out what was some apparently tiny but important parts. The local shop mechanics and the Baltimore shop mechanics agreed it would have been impossible for me to have removed those parts without having my own shop to work in.
I kept my job but it's always the driver's fault.