The Man in the Overalls

In the mid 90s, I was a patrolman in Caddo Parish. One summer I worked two vehicle crashes on opposite ends of the parish within a week of each other. Both vehicles were totaled in the crashes, but everyone involved survived without injury. Despite the property damage, the accidents were ultimately a matter of inconvenience, but people respond differently to life’s little inconveniences…

The first crash occurred on Sunday night around 9 pm. I was northbound in a curve on Highway 538 when I drove up on a geyser spewing onto the highway. An older model Ford sedan was sitting on top of a water main. The 16 year-old driver left church that evening with a friend, and he went around a curve in his mother’s car a little too fast. When his wheels went off the road into the grass on the right side, he over corrected, spun out of control, and crashed into the water main.

With water splashing all around me, I started my report. Minutes later, a car pulled up, and a nicely dressed woman stepped out. The 16 year old approached her shyly, but she ignored him, walked up as close as possible, and fixated on the car which was the center piece of a giant water fountain. The boy followed behind her and apologized in a high-pitched voice. She ignored him, staring at the car in awe. He called her name, and she turned around and attacked him with a barrage of punches.

I dropped my clip board and pulled her away from him. He hyperventilated through tears, but despite his embarrassment, he was uninjured. I told his mother I was sorry for the damage to her car, but I could not allow her to attack her son. She calmed down, apologized, and promised to control herself.

A week later, I was called to the 90 degree turn turn on Williams Road at the end of Sparks Davis Road on a major accident. When I arrived, there was a pick-up truck sitting on top of a telephone pole. The area was dark because of the downed lines. I shined my flashlight on an older model Ford truck, nicely painted with chrome Crager rims. It was totaled by the crash. A 16 year old boy sat on the bed of the truck near the driver’s door. He was uninjured and nonchalantly answered my questions. The boy was unfamiliar with the road, was going too fast, and did not expect the curve. He drove straight through and crashed into the telephone pole.

I was filling out a crash report and taking measurements when a second pick-up truck pulled up. A tall, thin man with a handlebar mustache stepped out. He wore a t-shirt with cut off sleeves, bib overalls, and a welder’s cap turned backwards. He surveyed the scene with his hands deep in his pockets. The young man continued to sit on the truck. The man in the overalls walked all the way around the truck and stopped in front of the boy sitting on the bed.

“You alright boy?”

He had his head in his hands, and his hands were shaking. His voice cracked. “I’m sorry Daddy…I didn’t meant to wreck the truck.”

The man paused and said, “You think I’m worried about this old truck? I can get another truck, but I can’t get another son.”

With that, the boy dropped to the ground and wrapped both arms around his father. The man held his son’s head tightly against his chest. His boy was alive, and he knew something the boy didn’t know. Only minutes earlier the boy was over confident, impatient, and immune to danger, but not any more. Now he knew the deadly consequences of ignoring the rules. It was a lesson that would pay dividends into adulthood.

The pick up truck was gone, but the man in the overalls wasn’t surprised. He knew the day could come when irresponsibility just might override all the lessons and warnings. That is why he gave his boy an old truck and made it look as good as possible.

The old truck died that day, but the boy lived to tell about it and take a lesson with him that he would never forget…