Calling The White Knight
It was sometime about 1971 I'd say
I was haulin' freight down Alabama way
The road was lonely, not a car in sight
I'd rounded a curve and looked to the right
And there was a sight I never thought I'd see
It was a lonely state trooper standin' by a tree
Now it was 'bout 40 miles to the closest town
And he had no vehicle I could see as I looked around
So I pulled off real quick to the side
Ran back to meet him and offer a ride
"You in some kinda trouble?" I asked with a frown
He said "No" and went on to explain what was goin' down
He'd been in the middle of writin' a ticket
When another speeder passed like a rabbit to a thicket
His partner gave chase for probably just a mile
"He'll be back soon to get me" he said with a smile
As we shook hands he said "I'm in your debt"
Then he said something I'll never forget
"Truckers are the White Knights of the road" I heard him speak
I was so proud as I turned away with a tear on my cheek
A few months later down in Memphis, Tennessee
A car up ahead slid and careened off a tree
I angled my rig to avert traffics flow
As I got to the car I heard a loud "Oooh!"
Traffic started stopping. A crowd gathered 'round
The car had flipped over, its' top on the ground
I got to my belly amid the glass and debri
Then I peered inside, afraid of what I'd see
It was too dark, I just couldn't see a thing
But the moaning and the groaning in my ears still did ring
As I talked words of comfort to the lady inside
I felt around, reaching, searching far and wide
At last my fingers became entangled in a hairdo
As I pulled my hand away, out it came with the head too!
My heart raced! My blood pressure soared!
Then I saw in my hand a wig on a head, attached to a board
The screams from the crowd turned to sighs of relief
My renewed search for the lady then was quite brief
I cradled her in my arms and then scooted out free
She was drunk as a skunk it became apparent to me
"You're my hero" she slurred from her lips
I stood there with bleeding arms, my hands on my hips
But my attitude changed when I heard from the crowd
A one way conversation spoken out loud
"Truckers are the White Knights of the road" I heard him speak
I was so proud as I turned away with a tear on my cheek
It was early December of 1973 I think
I attended the funeral of a friend pulled from the drink
He was haulin' a load of lumber down the Oregon coast
There were spots of black ice so he was doin' 20 at the most
He'd just topped a hill and gone round a bend
When he saw just ahead a school bus that had skidded end for end
He pumped the brakes but his speed just increased
His skidding truck had become a ravishing beast!
He let off the brakes to get out of the slide
Then he turned the wheel gently and aimed her over the side
A bus load of kids he saved that cold day
He gave his life for others. There was no other way!
The preacher said it was like Jesus giving his life for the rest
He said in each case, that they both gave their best
Later at the grave side with our heads bowed low
That preacher said something I want you to know
"Truckers are the White Knights of the road" I heard him speak
And I was so proud as I turned away with a tear on my cheek
Many years have gone by since these events took place
To tell of all the changes since then, I haven't the space
But some of these things I think it appropriate to note
Because the term 'White Knights of the Road' is now never spoke
The sign on the back said "Flash lights and I'll let you pass"
Now the sign says "Show Hooters" or some other such trash
Our CB was used judiciously as one of our tools
Now it seems the airwaves are filled with the voices of fools
Cursings and lewdness now seem to be the norm
The whores and queers are on it like flies in a filthy swarm
Nowdays, where trucks park, litter does abound
Trash, bottles of pee and worse scattered all around
It seems the kindness, courtesy and pride of truckers is gone
This causes me great sadness as I travel along
Construction zone, heavy traffic in the city
Makes no difference, ride that bumper, have no pity
When I see these things, no one has to speak
I must simply turn away with a tear on my cheek
A few weeks ago I was afraid there was no hope
The day'd been hectic, so I pulled off for a break, so I could cope
I pulled in behind another rig that was long and sleek
That danged rig was so pretty I just had to peek
As I walked along side to the barrel to deposit my litter
Seeing the trash scattered all over the place suddenly made me bitter
As I bent down to pick up some of that filthy bane
My eyes fell upon another driver and he was doin' the same
He was a young guy, dressed clean and neat
I introduced myself. We Shook. His name is Pete
His daddy'd been a trucker from many years ago
Who taught him to earn respect and respect to others show
Back on the road he handled that rig in a way befitting its' beauty
I think he takes serious his love for his job, his honor and his duty
With more like him we could earn back the respect we've lost
Wouldn't being called a 'White Knight' be worth the little cost?
There's hope for the 'White Knights' I hear myself speak
And I keep my eyes on the road, now with a tear on my cheek.
Written by Burl Faulk Sr
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