NEW COLUMN DEBUT
10-4 WELCOMES POET TREVOR HARDWICK
In August of 2006, Rod & Kim Grimm, authors of our “Trucker Talk” column each month, introduced us to Trevor Hardwick - a young trucker from Sultan, Washington that writes exceptional poetry and draws amazing pictures related to trucking. Since then, they have featured a few of Trevor’s poems in their articles. We thought Trevor should have his own regular column, so here it is. In this column, Trevor will not only publish his poems and artwork, but also some interesting insights as to how, when and why he was inspired to write the piece. We’d like to welcome Trevor to the “10-4 Family” and hope that you all enjoy his poetry as much as we do. And by all means, if you want to submit a poem that you have written, feel free to do so. You can find all of our contact information on page 6 of each and every magazine. This month, Trevor writes...
“Back in October, I was invited to bring my Peterbilt to my nephew’s class and talk to a room full of five-year-olds about what a truck driver does, and how my job helps their community. I was thrilled to take part in this – so thrilled, in fact, that it inspired me to write this poem. I don’t know who was more proud that day - my nephew Brady or myself! Just to see all their faces light up when they got to play around in the truck was a delight. My favorite part was when Brady’s coat pocket hooked the switch on my dashboard that activates the train horn! It stunned everyone. My wife Alicia snapped a picture of Brady and his classmate Timi right after it happened. It was priceless (see photo). That’s Brady in the red jacket and his cowboy hat - the kids were all dressed up for Halloween that day. I’m not a member of the Trucker Buddy program, but now I can understand why other drivers are so eager to be.”
A LITTLE “CLASS” GOES A LONG WAY
By Trevor Hardwick
I washed my truck the other day, its wheels, stacks and mirrors.
I washed the tires, the tanks, the top, and then behind its ears.
I got my big rig all cleaned up, it sure was lookin’ cool.
But I didn’t go to work that day, instead I drove to school.
Nervous? Oh, you bet I was, I pondered my survival.
As a classroom full of 5-year-olds, awaited my arrival.
I parked my truck and walked inside, and as I do recall.
My footsteps echoed violently, all through the vacant hall.
I took one step and then another, and then a couple more.
Until my sweaty palm made contact, with the classroom door.
I took a breath and walked inside, and kids were all around.
Then Mrs. Colby’s magic words, had made them settle down.
She introduced me and then she told them, that I drive a truck.
I’m sure they heard her words, but on me, their eyes were stuck.
Look at all those little faces, and look at all those smiles.
Their precious lives are marked by days, and mine is marked by miles.
I told them all how many miles, I drive within a year.
And tried to tell them all the things, I haul from there to here.
I told them how their pens and pencils, clothes and books and such.
Their pet food, toys and people food, have all been on a truck.
My little nephew’s in the class, his face aglow with pride.
He boasts about the rides he takes, with uncle by his side.
By now I’m sorta diggin’ this, and all the funny things they ask.
I’m reminded of when my old man, would bring his truck to class.
So then I took them all outside, to see how it would feel.
To get up in that big old truck, and sit behind the wheel.
We walked outside and there it was, just shining in the sun.
The kids just lost their minds, and I was havin’ so much fun.
They all climbed in so eagerly, like that’s where they were born.
They just about hit the bricks, the time my nephew found the horn!
“Look at all those switches, and the TV and the bed.”
It was great to hear the wonderlust, in what those children said.
One by one they took their turns, exploring that old rig.
I laughed inside to see their eyes, just stare at it so big.
The time had come to say good bye, and go our separate ways.
But they taught me something I’d forgotten, from my younger days.
So thank you Mrs. Colby’s class, and my nephew Brady too.
You’ve reminded me what trucks are like, from a child’s point of view.