Truck Policy
~ by Henry Swain reprinted from March, 1999
We have all been driving more alertly lately because of the chuckholes brought about by spring thaw. If you think some of them are pretty bad you should talk to some of the old-timers.
The roads in the forties and fifties were awful compared to what we are now experiencing. Researching old county highway records, I came across an unusual policy on truck use during the time of thaw.
The policy simply states,“ During the period of spring thaw send out the oldest trucks to the worst places.” This policy came onto the books in 1946, a year after the worst spring thaw on record. There is a reason for this peculiar policy.
The County Highway Department had received delivery of a new dump truck just prior to spring thaw. Ed Wayman, the highway superintendent, dispatched the new truck to repair a road-wide quagmire just above the John Stewart place on Clay Lick road.
The driver, overconfident in his new machine, drove into the mess and got the truck“ hung up,” as the local saying goes. I never understood that expression since the truck more accurately was“ bogged down.”
Ed came out and surveyed the situation. It was Friday afternoon, too late to do much about it. He said,“ Just leave her there men, we’ ll bring the Cat out Monday morning and snake her out. In the meantime it will keep anyone else from getting stuck.” The shiny new truck looked embarrassed sitting in the mud having already settled in up to the tire tops.
Monday morning Ed and his Cat crew approached the spot to retrieve the new truck. The load of stone was there, but no truck. There was no other equipment in the county large enough to pull it out and they were mystified.
Ed noticed a depression in front of the load of stone and probed it with a bar. The bar appeared to hit an object then penetrated deeper. A little shoveling exposed the top of the truck cab. Ed was the best poker player of the highway crew and knew when to fold.“ Men” he said,“ Dump more stone on her and smooth her out.” It was this episode which led to the policy of sending the oldest trucks to the worst places.
I had some reservations about the truth of this story. I asked my old neighbor Harley Lawson about the incident and he said it was true. He said I should talk to John Stewart about the matter, since it happened just a short distance above his place. Harley said John had an experience which tended to support the story.
John lived in a rather primitive cabin, no inside plumbing. He drew his water from the well in a bucket. This is the story John related to me.“ It was a year to the day the truck disappeared. Before turning in for the night I stepped outside. I heard an engine idling down on the road but could see no lights. The state of the road being what it was I feared someone might be in trouble. I got a jacket and flashlight went to investigate.
The sound grew louder as I went up the road. When I got to the mud hole where the truck disappeared, the sound stopped. I tell you, that was an eerie experience.”
“ Did you ever hear the sound again?” I asked.
“ Only at night on the anniversary of the day the truck sank out of sight,” John answered.
John’ s experience of verification may not have persuaded true unbelievers but it registered with many old-timers who recalled serious“ hung up” experiences of their own.
I hope this story puts into perspective some of the recent complaints of pot-holes. We haven’ t lost a truck since 1945. Now that was a really BIG pot-hole. •
Henry“ Hank” Swain contributed his column for 18 years and retired at age 95.
62 Our Brown County • March / April 2014