This is an iHeart podcast. Guaranteed human. Liberty has never been just a word to we Americans. It has guided every one of our endeavors for the past 250 years. And now it takes form in a new way.
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Uh This is Our American Stories, and we tell stories about everything here on this show. And we love hearing from you and your stories. Send them to ouramericanstories.com. There's some of our favorites. And every year millions of Americans take to the road in search of adventure.
Or to just get from point A to point B, but for Robert Froelich, A listener from Wisconsin, his trip from his home state to Kentucky while volunteering for the Appalachian Service Project was a bit more complicated than that. Here is Robert with the story of his bad road trip. It was about 9.30 at night when my wife looked out the window as I backed into the driveway. She was shaking her head when I walked in the front door. I told her You go to bed.
I need to sit and pray for a while. Without a word, she went off to bed. My friend Jack and I had many adventures together. mostly because the word impossible was not in his vocabulary. We served in the Appalachia Service Project Work missions for a few years and help them out in other ways from time to time.
This time, The project needed new trucks to haul materials from their central warehouses. to the various work centers throughout the Appalachian region. Jack and I and a couple of representatives from the project Went to a truck auction in Chicago to buy four used trucks that would suit the need and fit their very limited budget. We found just what we were looking for in four used U-Haul trucks. Two of them were driven immediately to Johnson City, Tennessee.
while we took the remaining two back to Racine, Wisconsin. The plan was to remove the cargo boxes. and then drive the two bare frame trucks back south where they would be fitted with flatbeds for hauling lumber and building supplies. Jack had it all figured out. His driver would drive one truck.
Jack would drive the other. and I would follow in a chase car to bring us all back home again. about an 1100 mile round trip. That was the plan. God truckled.
First, Jack's driver quit. On to Plan B. It consisted of Jack and me each driving a truck. with one of us towing a car for the return trip. God Giggled.
Ben. Jack. had a work obligation that could not wait. That left me. We have gone from a three-man task to two guys to one Lone Ranger.
3-2-1, you're it. Ellie laughs were heard in heaven. We conjured up Plan C. It called for me to drive both trucks to Corbin, Kentucky. and leave them at the truck stop.
People from Appalachia Service Project will come out the next day and take the trucks from there. Then, from the bus station in Corbyn, I could catch a ride back to Racine. Jack obtained a saddle from somewhere. It's a thing that allows you to piggyback one truck onto another. A guy who owned the saddle told Jack, If anything goes wrong, you didn't get that thing from me.
One afternoon, Jack and I removed the truck boxes, installed the saddle. hoisted one truck atop the other with a forklift, and cobbled together some wiring for brake lights on a towed vehicle. I remember Jack drove the rig in circles over rough ground to test the integrity of the saddle.
So it was that I came home that night driving a rig that looked perilously unstable. and told my wife I would be leaving at 4 a.m. the next morning. Then I prayed. Lord, These are your trucks.
intended to serve poor people in Appalachia. Please help me get them there safely in Jesus' name. Amen. Leaving at 4 a.m. would get me through Chicago before the morning rush to arrive in Corbin while it was still daylight.
and to get there before the next bus departed at about 7 p.m. I threw a change of clothes and a big crescent wrench into a small bag and headed out the door. These Ford trucks were about 20 years old and they were made for city driving. Equipped with a V8 engine and a four-speed manual transmission, The trucks were stripped down basic vehicles. noisy and underpowered.
Pulling out of my driveway, I headed west to the interstate, then took I-94 south toward Chicago. There were five or six toll stations going around Chicago. After paying the first toll, I pulled off to the side of the road. grabbed the big crescent wrench and gave each and every nut on the saddle a good tightening twist. After that, I felt better.
By now, however, the sun was up. and every time I looked in the rearview mirror, all I could see was the big letters D R O F. The backwards Ford name was tilting gently from side to side. It was unnerving. Why was that truck tailgating?
Oh yeah, that's my other truck. But other than the roaring of the engine, the spooky mirror image, and the heat, it was a nice trip. I did fall into an open way station, unsure if it was necessary, but they waved me through. I drove into a truck stop for fuel. but couldn't use the big rig pumps and had to settle for gassing up with the cars and the RVs.
Later that afternoon, the Corbyn exit came into view and I pulled off the interstate. and rolled into the truck stop. I found a parking spot way in the back, grabbed my bag, locked up the truck. At the desk inside, I handed the keys to the clerk and told her about the pickup the next day. Then I ask, Could you tell me how to get to the Greyhound bus station?
Since I had plenty of time, I planned to walk there. She looked at me and said, Oh. The bus station is at the next exit off the interstate. And it was not in walking distance. You could not get there anyway except to get back on the interstate.
Apparently, Plan C was somewhat flawed. I think I heard a little chortle from above. Don't you worry, honey, she said. I'll get you a ride. And she picked up the mic.
and announced to one and all I got a trucker here who needs a ride south. She called me a trucker. I felt like I'd just been promoted. Up walked an amiable guy who said he was headed south and we walked out to his tanker truck and boarded. We traded small talk about the relative merits of conventional cab versus cab over engine, and in no time flat we got off with a Corbin exit number two.
and he drove me right up to the bus station. which was actually a gas station. with a little window on the side of the building labeled Greyhound. which was closed. Yeah.
The guy at the gas station assured me that the window would be open later and that the bus was due about 7 p.m. Across the road was a small diner. I ambled over and ordered the fried chicken. which, as I recall, was mediocre at best. and greasy.
for which I suffered on the ensuing ride back to Racine. Just a side note. Corbin is home of the first Colonel Sanders Kentucky Fried Chicken Restaurant. That diner I ate on was not one of his. Um The bus came on time.
Hot, sweaty, and now queasy, I found an aisle seat next to, what else, a very large woman. Neither of us had any desire to experience the other. which worked fine as long as we could maintain the appropriate tilt. But when sleep took over, well, Anyway, This bus was not on the express route. We visited towns with bus stations even smaller than the one we had just left.
Every last tiny town between Corbin, Kentucky and Chicago, Illinois. I began to loathe the sound of airbrakes. It meant another stop. Around the crack of dawn, we pulled into Chicago. or I had to change buses to get home.
During the wait I tried to wash up and change in the restroom so I'd look and smell a little better. and with a wasted effort. I boarded the bus. and two hours later it pulled up in front of the Racine bus station. I called my wife and asked her to pick me up.
She arrived shortly. And I got into the car. She never said a word. I don't think she was impressed with our plan. or with me.
And you've been listening to Robert Froelich, and he's a listener from Wisconsin. And if you have stories of your own, particularly road trip stories, we're looking for some of those too, especially bad road trip stories. They are particularly endearing after you're finished with them and a year or two have passed. Send them to ouramericanstories.com or any other stories you have: fun, sad, tragic, positive. Anything you've got at all, send them to ouramericanstories.com.
Your stories are some of our favorites. Robert Ferlicks 321 You're It His road trip story here. on our American stories. Liberty has never been just a word to we Americans. It has guided every one of our endeavors for the past 250 years.
And now it takes form in a new way. The 2026 Semi-Quincentennial Coin and Metal Program from the United States Mint. It celebrates the founding ideals that have long shaped our coinage. Available one year only, this historic collection features new coin designs, limited edition releases, and reissues. Shop new official coins at usmint.gov forward slash semi-q.
That's usmint.gov/slash S-E-M-I-Q. Most Mother's Day gifts end up in a drawer, but a song lives in the heart forever. This year, tryjoybox.com is giving away 1 million free custom songs to celebrate 1 million incredible moms. Just share a few memories, and Joybox produces an original track and greeting card just for her instantly. It's the most personal gift you'll ever give, and right now, it's completely free.
Make mom the star. Her own song at tryjoybox.com. One million songs, zero dollars, only at tryjoybox.com. I'm U. S.
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In football, you've got guys from everywhere. Different backgrounds, different beliefs, all of it. You don't agree on everything. but you got each other's backs. That's how it works.
And right now, off the field, hate's going up everywhere. Different communities, different ways. And Jewish communities are getting hit hard. That's not how a team operates. The blue square is just one way of showing you've got people's backs.
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