Traffic moves through steady snow
along the Highway 61 Expressway between Duluth and Two Harbors on Monday
afternoon, Dec. 2, 2013. (Bob King / rking@duluthnews.com)
Read the article: Evening weather update: Northland still in line for a foot - or more - of snow
Read the article: Evening weather update: Northland still in line for a foot - or more - of snow
ROAD TERROR –Highlights from My Recollections
By John M. Grimsrud ©2013
While I was going to school I took
a job working for a clever fellow named Sam Popkin. These two and an half years proved to be every
bit as much education as I got from school.
I was left to develop my own routes
and clients and for most of the year this was a lark.
While nearly everyone I knew was
shuttered up in offices and behind desks, I traveled scenic highways in upper
Michigan, the resort areas of Wisconsin, the north shore of Lake Superior, the Iron
Range of Minnesota. and more.
I made business friends and it was
great fun…but not a get rich quick enterprise.
As I started my last year of school,
Sam Popkin dumped me.
He left a copy of my account at my
father’s drug store and stated that if it was not paid by return mail that he
would sue.
I was shocked and asked my dad’s
advice. Dad told me to take thirty days, deduct 2% and pay by registered mail.
As my dad always
used to say, “You never know when someone is doing you a favor.”
Coincidentally,
a week before a representative from a company whose products I was selling
through Sam Popkin had come by and pitched me to take on their line of
merchandise. They said that I was doing a better job with it than Sam.
At the time, I
had declined their offer because my life had taken on the complication of a
divorce.
Again, I
asked my dad for advice, and he said: “Give that company a call.” I did and
five days later I was in business for myself.
My dad
extended me credit. Though it doesn’t seem like much now, that $2,500 infusion
of capital enabled me to get a start. I repaid every penny within six months of
finishing school.
These were
austere times for me. My neighbor used to shop for me at St. Vincent de Paul
Thrift store to keep my wardrobe together. I learned how to mend my own clothes
including replacing pockets and zippers. I learned to cut my own hair, and then
gave haircuts to others…something that has served me well my entire lifetime.
This poverty
portion of my life proved to be a rewarding learning experience that altered my
life’s course and strengthened my mindset in a positive way.
Diligent
efforts saw my business grow. Eventually I had eleven different factory lines
of merchandise I warehoused and shipped, plus I was a factory representative
for pharmaceutical supplies. I landed a contact to supply a large cost-plus
grocery wholesaler that had over two-hundred and fifty supermarkets with a
direct billing arrangement.
If I didn’t
get out of my first supermarket before eight in the morning I wouldn’t make the
last store by closing time at night. I was like the one-man-band. Many nights
my wife Jane worked in my warehouse until eleven at night to pack the day’s
orders that went out the next morning by UPS.
This all
sounds too good to be true;
There were
some downside detractors in this paradise. Driving an average of two hundred
and fifty miles a day in my business was acceptable in good weather.
Let me tell
you about some incidents that helped me bail out of this lucrative business.
Early one
morning as I drove north up Highway 53 to the Iron Range cities of Minnesota in
late winter I followed a huge industrially sized flat bed tractor trailer truck
pressing the upper limits of speed over jolting frost heaves.
The truck was
carrying one gigantic mounted wheel that overhung the trailer substantially.
These wheels were used on monster dump trucks in the open pit iron ore mines.
What happened
next seemed to take place in slow motion.
The truck hit
a giant frost heave, the wheel unshackled itself, bounced high up in the air
and came bounding down directly in front of my car and then went airborne again
as I passed under it.
That split
second seemed to drag on in my mind. If the sequential timing had been off by a
split second that might have been the end of me. I would have been squashed
like a bug hitting the windshield.
Another
Northern Minnesota incident took place on an extremely cold day. The roadway
was glazed with glare ice and dusted with powder snow. Tire traction in these
conditions is a nebulous thing easily broken by a very slight alteration in
velocity. Once traction is broken you must steer into the skid and gently bring
the wheels back into traction. This maneuver takes training and lots of time
and space. There is a point of no return when the vehicle skids into a
spin…control is lost and where you stop is not your option.
I got my
driving on ice experience on a frozen lake where there is lots of room to
learn. On the frozen lake it was a lot of fun to go as fast as possible and
then put the car into a power-on spin…something that only juveniles seem to
enjoy.
Back to my
story: As I came over the precipice of a high hill with a commanding view I saw
off in the distance two double tractor trailer tank trucks speeding over the
white landscape and heading my way. They were out of control on the glare ice. Their
high speed sent huge clouds of powder snow wafting up in clouds as they
fish-tailed along.
We would meet
on this two lane road, and the trailers undulating motion caused them to sweep
the entire road surface.
Meeting them
was like playing Russian roulette with two bullets in the revolver.
Anxiety and
anguish sent my heart throbbing like an air-hammer while muscle tension had me
gripping the wheel with white knuckles as I slid between the two trucks.
These types
of incidents were happening much too often. A number of over-the-road sales
people, friends of mine, had become casualties to these driving conditions.
Yet one more
icy road story:
One winter
evening I was returning from the Iron Range of Minnesota and entering Duluth. “Lake Effect” snow had drifted in and
blanketed this city perched on a hill.
The road
surface became glazed with ice and large drifts of snow were swept by an arctic
blast of wind.
It was
treacherous going especially at the point where I joined the city traffic.
I was
descending the Duluth hill. Ahead the road made a long sweeping curve. To make
this situation even more perilous and terrifying the paved road had a half foot
drop-off to the shoulder. If my wheel should slip over it with this ice
condition, the probability of controlling the car was slim to none.
The car directly
ahead of me lost control and spun violently like a top with its horn blasting and
an oncoming car smashed into it with a deadly thud. Both cars were still in
motion as I approached and tried to maneuver around the impact zone.
My car spun
violently out of control when my wheel left the pavement and I braced for the
eminent impact.
My nerves
were completely shattered and I trembled with fright. The last mental image I had was of my car
spinning out of control into the two impacted vehicles ahead of me.
As I gained
some prospective of my condition I realized that I had missed the collision and
was facing in the opposite direction from where I had been coming and I was on
the other side of the road slammed into a snow drift and stopped dead.
I was trembling
and my nerves were so shaken I couldn’t release my seat belt.
Roads too
slick to stand on, I drove on…but not for long.
I got a gold
key from my insurance company for a meritorious driving record.
Ironically,
one day as I drove my route my radio quit. My mind didn’t and, lo and behold, an inspiration struck me that altered the rest
of my life.
It was time
to quit this insanity and move on. I would rather take my chances on the
high seas.
That is
another adventure story that I relate in my book, Sailing
Beyond Lake Superior.
Available in paperback and Kindle at Amazon.com and in EPUB for NOOK and iPAD.
