Going to work with Daddy

My father drove a truck for a living, not a long haul tractor trailer, but a non tractor trailer type. He had a regular route that took him from Wilmington to Lumberton twice a week. It made for a long day because he stopped at almost every little  mom and pop store between the two towns and in those days every little cross roads had one or two stores. Many of these were as close as across the road from each other. He would work his way to Lumberton on Monday getting there around 6  o'clock and would spend the night in the Goodyear Hotel in downtown. My guess is it was probably the only hotel there in those days. Then Tuesday he would work his way back to Wilmington. Wednesday would be a short work day going just a little ways up highway 87 turning around just short of Carver's Creek and back to Wilmington getting home about 6. Then back to Lumberton on Thursday and home on Friday. It was hard work but he never complained even though the trucks he drove didn't A/C or automatic transmissions. Even though this was back before there were special days set aside to bring your kids to work he would take me with him 4 or 5 times a year. Sometimes between stops that were close together he would let me ride in the back of the truck. I can close my eyes now and smell the fresh meat that he delivered, much of it had only been processed the day before. During the tobacco season when we would spend the night in Lumberton I would wake up to the sound of the tobacco auctioneer chanting his bids and the smell of fresh cured tobacco. Seemed that was all that they had in Lumberton back then. Never have been able to understand how something could smell so good and then stink and taste so bad when smoked. Probably the reason I never took up the habit. I will cherish these memories of going to work with my father for as long as my memory holds onto this world. Watching him work taught me something that regular father and son outing just can’t do.