Retired Truckie/Trucker's International Club - RTIC
	"Retired Truckies are our Road Treasures"

'INTRUDERS'

We are proud to display a series of ‘Old Bill’s Stories with his permission. They have not been altered in any way. We hope you enjoy his stories - they are just a couple of many! 'Intruders' Cops & Robbers (by Diesel Gypsy© USA) It was the end of July, 1964 in Toronto’s East side, about a week after returning from our honeymoon trip. (By truck.) It was a Thursday night about 10:30 pm, and I was getting ready for a 3rd run to Montreal this week. I had the loaded truck sitting in the grocery store parking lot across the street, ready to go. I think it would be better to give one a description of the location so as to understand this incident a little better. It was near the corner of Dawes Rd. & Danforth Ave. in Toronto’s East side. We had a small 4 room apartment over top of a clothing store. Our front door was recessed in beside the store entrance, with show cased windows on both sides. There was no door window or peephole. You entered, and went directly upstairs into the kitchen, then faced a rear window overlooking the flat store roof. We had a couple clotheslines strung up out there also. Over the edge was about a 10 – 12 foot drop down to the back ally. There were no lights of any sort at the rear of the building, nor in the ally. It was pitch dark. Off to the left was the second floor of the hardware store, with no windows. Then to the right, in the next building was a finance company, and next to that was Dawes Road. Directly across the street were 2 well used taverns. It was just before 11:00 pm and I said my goodbyes to my wife Muriel, and my mother, who was staying with us for a time, until her things were shipped into Toronto and set up in her new apt. They locked up and went to bed shortly after I left. Just after midnight, mom was awakened by some noises coming through the back window, which at the time was open to dispense the summer heat. She heard what sounded like someone using a crowbar, pulling nails. She immediately went in to get Muriel up. She awoke to find mom standing beside the bed in the dark, holding my 18 inch butcher knife in one hand, and my 2 lb ball peen hammer in the other hand. She whispered to Muriel to get up, and told her that some one is on the roof and trying to get in next door. Muriel held the weapons while mom called the police. They remembered the kitchen window being open, (no screen, for climbing in and out with the laundry). They then stood one on each side of the window with weapons in hand waiting for something to happen. Just then a banging came to the front door; mom went to the top of the stairs and yelled, “WHO IS IT?” It’s the police, let us in. Mom answered, go to hell, if you are the cops, get you asses around the back and get those guys off our roof. You are not coming in the front door if I cannot see who you are. She came back to Muriel and with one on each side of the window, stood there ready to take on any intruder. A chase ensued across the top of the roof and there was screaming and yelling going on like crazy. The 2 guys trying to cut their way into the finance company were finally nailed and cuffed. Muriel whispered to mom that there were 2 shadows coming towards our window, knife and hammer ready for anything, one called out, “are you ladies still there?” They did not answer, “You phoned the cops, we are coming in”. Thinking it was still the burglars, as the first cop put his head through the window, mom stuck the BIG BUTCHER KNIFE in front of his face, and Muriel held the steel hammer over his head. He was in plain cloths, and yelling NO-NO, we are the police. The uniformed cop threw in his police hat while the plainclothes cop dug frantically for his ID. “OK, the window is as close as you are going to get, your not coming in.” The cop asked, “What would you have done if they came in?” We would have used the knife and hammer on them. (Cop) you’re not supposed to do that. Mom answered with, “What are we supposed to do? Invite them in for a cup of tea?” (Cop) Well we will just come in and use the stairs to the street. Mom answered with a definite NO WAY, you got a ladder out there from the ground, you just go back the way you came, and take the ladder and those idiots with you………. So they did. The bad guys were hauled off and charged, not realizing that was their life saver. My mother and father, during the depression (the dirty 30’s) were butcher & chef on the great lakes ships, and mom was well schooled in the use of the BIG BUTCHER KNIVES. Muriel had a hot temper, from earlier rougher days of her life, and would not hesitate to use the hammer on an intruder’s head. No one has ever made it through our home without an invitation. (Including me.) ©2005 William (Diesel Gypsy) Weatherstone. (Used with permission).

'Deisel Gypsy' - In The Beginning

--------It was more than 50 years ago that I started into trucking. Before that, I was thrown out of school, before my time. Never ever, found out why. They just told me, it would be better for both of us if we parted company. Who am I to question the school principles decision. I was gone in a flash. Fortunately, I was big for my age, and had no problem lying about it. Taking my drivers license test, was a snap. Since I was 13 years old, I used to ride with my stepfather, on weekend trips, hauling bread on overnight trips. After school on Friday nights he had a trip up North, returning by noon on Saturday. I got to help to unload the bread, and learn to spot the trailer into some very tight ally's. One night he asked if I thought I could handle the truck on the highway. It was about 4:30am. And deserted. OK, was my answer. He Pulled over, and we switched seats. He promptly flaked out. It was a 1949-KB-8 Binder, (International) It was equipped with air brakes, instead of the old vacuum type. It was great advancement. He let me take it for about 50 miles. We never saw another vehicle all night. When we switched back, I was the biggest and best King Cong., of all truckers. This arrangement went on for over a year. One trip in particular, he had spent all day in the tavern, with the boys. By the time he got home and ready for work, he was pretty baffed out. We loaded, and took off. At the city limits was the last coffee shop available. We stopped in, had a coffee and he almost passed out. It was an open road from there and no traffic. The sun was just setting in the west, when he asked if I would like to drive for 20minutes to a half hour. We switched seats and I drove on. He was out like a light before I even got it into gear. The load was going to Peterborough, ON. (Canada), about 100mi. Away. I got her rolling and was having a ball (at 14 yrs old). I was motoring along and wondering when he would tell me to pull over and change drivers. It never happened. I drove up through the hills, and into town. Fortunately this warehouse had a back door in a through ally. It was narrow, and tight, but it was a strait through drive. The unloading was through the side door of the van. I got in without a scratch. Out the driver's door, and around to the front door of the warehouse, and inside. Jack asked where the old man was, and I told him that I would help unload, as Roy was too tired, and was going to grab an hour's sleep. He bought it, and we got to work. It was about an hour job for the two of us to unload, and reload the empty bingos. (Bread trays) We closed up and he stayed on to wait and load his city trucks. I jumped into the driver's seat, and drove out the alley, and headed for the highway. The old man was still dead to the world. I motored on down the road, happy as hell. The first crack of dawn, was breaking through, and I was about 1/4 mi. from the starting point, at the coffee shop. The old man woke up and started screaming at me, what in Hell, are you doing on the wrong side of the road, going the wrong way? He really threw a sh** fit. Pull back into the coffee shop and get out. Well we went in and he was really cranked up over me. He couldn't figure out, how, in a couple of minutes, I could get turned around and be headed back into town. During his fit of anger, the all-night waitress was putting on her coat to go home. She came over and lit right into him. She promptly told him that the trip was done already, and the sun was not just going down, but it was just coming up. He had the most stupid look on his face, I had ever seen. He stomped out to the truck and opened the trailer door, looked in, saw it was unloaded, then closed the door. He never bugged me again, after that trip. William ( Diesel Gypsy ) Weatherstone. ©2005 All Rights Reserved. Used with permission. Please Click Here to visit Bill’s New Website and leave him a message. Please Click Here to visit the Main RTIC page.

Letter and Pics from a Single Truckie Dad

Letter and Pics from a Single Truckie Dad Hi there Jan, I had to give away the road on 29 Aug 2000 to become a sole Dad of 2 kids. Timothy is now 5 years and at a pre-school and Jessica is 6 and it's her first year at school - she loves it. I have work at E Murphy & son in Melbourne and Toll`s and I still do a very little bit for my step dad to be up here in a town called Stawell. I do wish I could get back on the road, but that I can't see as I am now 40. Love to hear from you all there. Cheers Peter J. Lyttle P.S. T D U Stands for Trucking Down Under. You can Click Here to see Peter's children's pics on the 'Kidz-Stuff' page with his authority.

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