Last week the Oglet and i witnessed a truck almost stuck under a viaduct.

It made me remember a time, working at my first job at the lumberyard in Cedar lake, where I would drive along the North Shore to work every day. One day, though, I saw a truck jammed hard under the viaduct at the Monon tracks.

The sign said clearance to the 12 foot line, but the crappers were stacked to 13’9″.

Actually, it was a box truck, too tall for the viaduct, and the big iron beam had peeled back the top like a can of sardines. The truck (a relatively light truck) had buckled in the middle, now devoid of it’s supporting lid, and it had sprayed toilets all over the road. No way I was going forward, nothing for it but to take the long way around the lake.
So I did, ended up being 11 minutes late. This was a big deal, back then. The Yard foreman Roger asked me what the fuck my problem was, and I said “Crappers”. He looked at me like I had another head, and turned away.

Found out later on that it was a truckload of crappers destined for the yard where I worked.