The Country Classics

This Country Classics article is a tribute to a friend of mine. A truck driver and dear friend of mine, he hauled D-5 bulldozers for a mining exploration company. The video below is a tribute to all truckers, but Bill’s situation was slightly different. On Bill’s last cross-country run he thought about life and business as usual. Hauling wide loads, Bill and his buddies had to stop, getting off the road before the sun went down.

Bill talked about hauling equipment to the Dakota’s in winter, only to find the ground so frozen that they could not drill. He enjoyed his time on the road. After life’s circumstances changed he hired on with a company near home, making a daily run from Kansas City to Saint Joe Missouri. Bill loved the road. But life’s circumstances did change. You see, on his final long haul run Bill’s wife was fine, healthy and supportive as Bill fired up the old diesel and left the house. But Bill’s loving wife passed away before he returned from that final run.

As we talked about what life sent our way, Bill talked about World War II and the fear that courses through a young man prior to those famous beach invasions. He talked of the call of the highways, the peace he found in driving after he came home from the war. I soaked up every word from a man much wiser than me, but I don’t think Bill realized how much I enjoyed listening. Perhaps he thought I was a man of few words. I was 55 years old, and Bill was 80. I would often find him sitting on my back porch, feeding chicken livers and gizzards to my dog, while enjoying the peace and quiet. Bill was retired, and all he wanted to do was go fishing.

I remember the day I met Bill. He lived across the street. His first words to me were “That damn dog of yours growls at me in my own front yard.” I said “Well, let me introduce you.” That was all it took. New friendships were formed, and I miss the man to this day. I bought his house in his final year, and rebuilt it piece by piece, until I had a restored tribute to my old friend. When he saw it, he said through teary eyes “Why, I should rent that back from you.” I replied “You can live here at no charge for as long as you want.” Bill returned to Sedalia Missouri instead.

As I said on my Windsor Missouri website:
You might live next door to a world class guitar or fiddle player and never know it. Such was the case of a modest neighbor of mine named William Scherer. Bill stopped by one day and I noticed a guitar and amplifier in his van. Bill said he helped his granddaughter that day by playing guitar. People actually clapped for us, Bill said. The world lost a great guitar player when we lost Bill, but heaven gained a great guitar man.

So as we start the days of September I long for the days and discussions on my back porch with my old friend. Soon it will be too cool to enjoy the porch for more than a few minutes. I will be 60 years old next summer, and don’t tolerate the cold like I did when I was young. I noticed an article today titled “The Last Days of Summer” as I think of summer’s end. It is written by Bill’s son, Ray Scherer.

This is a tribute to a friend. I filed it in the “Honors” section where it belongs.

The pictures in the video are courtesy of Hank’s Truck Pictures.

And here is Kathy Mattea with “18 Wheels And A Dozen Roses”: