Page Four
THE SALE MITE
September 28,1956
It Happened To Me
On A Milk Truck
By Robert L. Wendt
Truckdriver
I know that you have seen the
(idle sifijns l)y the side of bridges
which read, “Load Limit, 6 Tons.”
Ftave you ever wondered if they
meant wliat they said? These load
limit signs have always been a
challenge to me, so let me give you
the inside facts on the matter.
The only way we can discover
truth (say the empericists) is to
test, try and measure. A twenty
4on load limit will me on a rickity
bridge I’d hardly cross with my
’47 Chewy, whereas the long, nar
row, impressive steel structured
bridge across the Yadkin River
near Lewisville, owns a sign which
says, “six ton limit.”
This summer I drove a rather
heavily loaded bulk milk tanker
through parts of Davie, Forsyth
and Yadkin counties. When I took
the job my wife said that I couldn’t
drive a truck. She deduced this
from the fact that T have a difficult
lime driving our own car.
1 was told that my truck weighed,
unloaded, three “ton” (Southern
way of saying three tons). With
every hundred gallons of milk I
picked up I added eight hundred
and sixty pounds to the gross
weight.
One day I came to the Yadkin
River Bridge. The tank had about
four tons of milk on it (almost a
thousand gallons), so together with
my truck weight, I was over the
load limit by one ton. To turn
hack would take a half a day. To
s|»ill out the milk would take some
explaining. To go ahead would
take that old college try, so for
the sake of SMU and Salem, I went
ahead.
The bridge accepted us cordially,
did her job in a most satisfactory
manner, and in so far as I can see,
the signs don’t mean what they say
(at least, not on this'bridge).
So day after day I went rolling
across the bridge with about the
same load. One time I had an
extra load of milk which ran the
gross weight to something over
seven and a half tons. We made
that crossing too (I supposed that
the exercise was making the bridge
stronger), but the next day I re
versed my route and went over al
most empty. I had found out that
the truck really weighed four and
a half tons empty instead of just
three 1
Did I learn anything else from
my summer’s experience ? I surely
did. One farmer asked me if I
had ever milked, and offered me
the use of his most contented cow.
After several minutes of jerking,
twisting, and wrist trying manipu
lation, the cow said to me, “Hang
on, dude. I’ll jump up and down.”
I also learned that one needs a
chauffeur’s license to drive a truck'
and to get it one must pass a test.
I missed a question (one of twenty)
and told the officer that I should
have figured that one out. He said
that it was explained rather clearly
in “the little booklet.” I kept my
mouth shut. I never looked at any
“little booklet.” So you see, it’s
about as easy as a geography test.
The third thing I learned was a
strong confirmation of the truth
that rural living has something
urban living does not have, and the
little farmer is an important part
of America.
The last thing I learned, and I
learned this when I got my first
pay check, is why some teachers
leave teaching and oftimes become
truck drivers.
On A Trai
Biiqrauin^ co.
in
By Sissie .A.llen
We had been talking to a Hun-
garian-American who was traveling
with his 65-year-old mother when
the porter came through announc
ing dinner. They left to go to the
dining car while we filled up on
bread, jam, and raisins. When, an
hour later they returned, they told
us there was a tour of American
students about three cars up.
We were a little tired of the
hard seats on a second-class
French train, so we decided to go
pay them a visit.
The first compartment we saw
had four girls in it—definitely
American because they were play
ing bridge and had loafers and
socks on.
We opened the door and said
“Hi, what part of the states are
you from ?”
“North Carolina,” they answered.
“Really? Where?”
“High Point, Leakesville, and
Burlington,” they replied.
Then we played do-you-know.
One of them asked where I was
from and when I said Troy she
said, “Oh, that’s not far from Bis-
coe.”
“Who do you know in Biscoe ?”
I asked.
“Martha Buie—I was in her wed
ding—and, come to think of it, I
stayed one night in Troy.”
“Do you remember who with ?”
I asked.
“Well, it wasn’t exactly in town
—about a mile the other side. They
lived in a brown house and had a
son and daughter.”
“The name wasn’t Allen, was it?”
“Hey, that’s it! Do you know
them ?”
‘Yep. That’s my house.”
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Under The Stars
By Ronnie Aluis
You’ve often heard no doubt of
the article “The Most Unforget
table Character I’ve Met.” I am
going to change my version to “the
most unforgettable evening I have
ever had.”
One Friday evening, I was guest
of honor at a Libyian Kus Kus
dinner. The Kus Kus is served
only on special occasions, and even
though I had been in Tripoli, Libya
only two and a half months some
close friends wanted me to leave
Africa in grand style.
The meal was prepared by one of
the women from a nearby village,^
as this followed the Libyian tradi
tion. Potatoes, hard boiled eggs,
a meal called similie, hot peppers,
pickled peppers, lamb, carrots,
beans and seasoning were cooked
together and placed in one large
bowl. This was the central dish
from which everyone was to eat.
On the side, Italian breadsticks and
salad were served.
Large straw mats were placed on
the balcony and everyone was re
quired to remove his or her shoes
before stepping on the mats. We
took our places folding our legs
beneath us sultan style.
Because we were all Americans,
we broke tradition somewhat by
having individual plates and eating
with knives and forks. Every other
detail seemed to fulfill the custom.
We even had the desert stars as
our roof.
The atmosphere was made com
plete with four “music makers”
brought in from a nearby village
to entertain the guests. Three had
facsimilies of drums made of pot
tery with skins tied across the
bottoms of the jars. The fourth
played a bagpipe made of horns
and a goat’s skin. Their native
rhythmical beating, chanting and
dancing fascinated all of us.
And as the African drums can
still be heard so distinctly in my
ears, I know it was one of the
most unforgettable evenings I have
ever spent.
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