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Family Lore

Updated: Feb 1, 2023

His wife called him Hustler. Colleagues called him 'Supertrucker.' We called him Dad. Behind the man, the myth, the legend was my family.



My mom held down the fort, raising us and keeping the company books, while he was logging the miles. We weren’t a typical nuclear family. “Roll On” (by Alabama) was the family anthem. We had our schedule. We didn’t sit down as a family for dinner 7 nights a week. But with absolute certainty, we knew we were eating spaghetti on Sunday nights, the alarm would go off at 10:30 pm, and he would be out the door by 11 pm, heading for New York. On Monday afternoons and evenings (traffic depending), we’d hear him rolling back in again.


I cannot recall a “big moment” that he missed

My dad was gone for 4 long days a week. However, I cannot recall a “big moment” that he missed. Since my parents owned their own company, they had the flexibility to get him home for all the milestones and holidays that we wanted him for.


In 1987, my dad bought the black and gray Kenworth seen here. The truck was Dad’s pride and joy (ahem, third to my brother and me of course, err maybe). She likely won as many awards as my brother and I did (and we were no slackers). That truck was famous in our small town, along his routes, and in the truck show circuit.


We could hear the rumble of his truck from at least a mile away. My brother and I knew precisely where to stand at the edge of our driveway, ensuring that Dad’s door would open directly to us. The neighborhood kids knew not to touch the stainless steel (to this day, only his grandchildren’s fingerprints are acceptable).


During my summer vacations, that truck took me to places like Montauk and Hoover Dam. My dad and his beauty queen pulled my cheerleading squad on a decorated float in our small town’s annual parade. I wrote my college admissions essay about that truck. An unconventional lifestyle but it held lots of adventures.

When we said goodbye to this truck, she had millions of miles on her. Like an elusive beast, I’ve seen her burning up I-95 a time or two since then. To say she holds a place in our family history is an understatement.


Fast forward to now. Dr. Jason decided that his father-in-law’s old truck in all of its hard-working glory would be a good jumping off point to launch our brand. Her lines look pretty great on our can, and we can all benefit from a hard-working soft-drink. While my dad lived off a particular brand of caffeinated sugary soda – which he has since given up, we recommend a cold Running Lights to fuel your journey, whether of the long-haul or around-town variety.


Keep Your Running Lights On,

Kristin

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