A prayer for Gary

Photo credit: Scott Cain "Garbage Truck Accident"

I hung up the phone. The woman had been pleasant, but had provided no answers. It was three weeks since I had seen him. She said he was 7th in line, what ever that meant. My gut said that they were planning to keep him for another month. 

 At 2pm, in a quiet valley, where a road ended, there was chaos. A garbage man was on the ground. He had lost his balance, missed the brake, stumbled, and then fell out his truck. I watched him as he smacked his head on the asphalt. It was not as he had planned things to go. The big stinky truck rolled away backwards down the hill. The big beast now free was going on a killing spree. A little Jeep its first victim. The poor little thing squealed as she was smashed and pushed against her will. Thirty feet down the hill and into old man Nissan. A terrible crunch! Now he too protested with fright as the brute gouged, smashed, and bent his rusty old frame. 

 At the bottom of the valley Gary was there doing his job protecting the trailer-lings. It wasn’t long before the refuse hulk had spotted him. One of the trailer-lings was of particularly interest for this trash monster. The small wooden dump trailer owned by a rival. “Murdellize”, muttered the mud stained monster. Tossing aside the first two victims this malodorous berserker proceeded with great passion for Gary and the little ones he protected. Then with a large crack, Gary was now giving his all. It was the sort of behavior we had come to appreciate from him. 

 It was in no way a fair fight. A 36,000 lb twelve tire rear loading refuse truck against Gary a black 2013 GMC Sierra. Gary had been in my life for six years. I don’t know much about his life prior to me. When I purchased him, he still had part of a fifth wheel bolted to his box and a small rack of bullets hidden under the driver’s seat. At the dealership I had messaged my friend David a photo to show what I had spent my money on. His reply was, that I was a fool, and the truck looked like a “corrupt animal”. I agreed and said I wanted to name it. He said I should consider a brute of a name such as Jack Elam, or Gary Busey. Without hesitation I chose Gary. 

 Now Gary was fighting like I had never seen before. It took him twelve feet but, Gary was able to halt the filthy thug. My companion had held his own. He had protected the Trailer-lings. But sadly he now bore a ghastly scar from that stinky monster. He was wounded. His front wheels now contradicted one another, and he leaked fluid. He was not able to move. 

 Thankfully the rampage was over and the quiet had returned to the valley. The garbage truck driver jumped back into his putrid sled. He had regained control of his vehicle. And with a sickening crackle he pulled it out of the chaotic mess it had created. He parked it, and this time he took great care to set the break just a few feet east of the impact zone. There was much debris on the pavement. The little Jeep half crushed was perched upon the farm’s mailbox. Next to Gary, his work mate old man Nissan lay crippled, leaking gasoline, and sagging in the middle. However things could have been much worse. With the exception of the bump on the garbage truck drivers head, there were no people hurt. And, it didn’t take long for a whole crowd of excited people to descend upon the quiet scene. Many of whom had raced there to see the results of the malay. However, they were also a few to arrive purely by happenstance. In all two garbage truck driver supervisors. One police man, four paramedics, a propane truck, a porta-john service truck, a UPS truck, the mail man, the homeowners, the Jeep owner, the husband of the Jeep owner, Bobby Danger (owner of Old Man Nissan). And my self. It was, for an hour or so a bit of a circus in that quiet valley at the end of Stowe Rd in Leelanau county. 

 As for Gary he was hauled away five days later, and I wondered if and when I would ever see my trusted friend again. Be well Gary, I thought to myself as I watched him disappear out of the valley. may your noble spirit heal and once again gallop the roads and muddy lanes of Leelanau. 

 This true antidote was inspired by, a quote from a farmer (I think I read on Facebook) regarding his dog who had protected a heard of sheep. "It was chaos," his dog, Casper. "It was not how we wished things had gone, but we're glad he made it. He was doing his job, and that's what I think everybody appreciates about him."