The Helpful Hitchhiker

You probably never heard of Sam Preston. I didn't till one rainy night in spring a couple of years back. I was barrel in a long highway six into the foothills of the Rockies in a 30 ton diesel carrying about 20 tons of high octane gasoline.

It was pretty windy too as I recall, but even though the visibility was not so good I had to make time on a count of that flat I had outside Omaha. Almost midnight and I wanted to get to a diner and get some coffee because I needed it pretty bad.

I was having trouble staying awake. I've been doing these long hauls for about 15 years now, but I never made this route. Anyway, I'm doing about 15 and staring at the white line in the highway, and the rain is splashing off the windshield, and the wipers are going lickety split.

And then I saw them. Now I'm not one to pick up hitchhikers. You never know. It might be a hijacker. Besides, we got orders not to. I got a glimpse of them as I went by, and what the devil hears an old guy out in the storm.

guy out in the storm and no raincoat and it's a good 10 miles to anywhere. So I hit the brakes hard and I could feel all that gasoline sloshing around and the big tank piling up the weight behind me.

But I pumped the brakes till I stopped and then waited for him to catch up. Boy was he soaked. He swung up into the cab and dropped into the seat. Thanks fella. He said, here I said and I handed him a towel that I always keep handy for washing and shaving.