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Driving on highway 15 today, a log truck was on my tail the whole time. I can't stand that for several reasons. There are lots of log trucks on the roads of South Mississippi. If you're following one, an unsecured log can slide off (and they're not tied down) and crash through your windshield--instant death. I give them wide berth. If one is following you on our twisty turny roads, if you had to brake suddenly, that log truck loaded with tons of logs will just run over you.
The truck driver today passed me, but I recall a frightening thing that happened once. Years ago when my sister Ava and her friend Rochell were between husbands, they invited me to go to a juke joint with them. I met them there. I don't like those places, but went anyway. They served lukewarm beer, or you could bring your own bottle. There was always an eardrum splitting country western band, and  nearly unbreathable blue haze of cigarette smoke.
The place closed at midnight. To avoid the rush of people leaving at midnight, I left at 11:45pm. I went through Petal Mississippi, and the town was closed and dead. At the first red light, a log truck with no logs on it, pulled up to my bumper, with the headlights on high. Same at next red light. The driver revved his motor. I was annoyed. I decided to go through Petal and take Highway 29 south toward home.
I was surprised when the driver stayed on my bumper. A guy out in a log truck at midnight was kinda strange anyway, but when I turned down the lonely twisty Highway 29 and he stayed on my bumper, I knew instinctively something wasn't right. I would drive slowly so he'd have to pass me, but he didn't. At times, I'd drive fast to try to outrun him. Didn't matter--he stayed right on me. There was no other traffic on that lonesome road.
On one last twisty part I drove as fast as I could and lost him, and zipped across Highway 98. I pulled up in someone's driveway and killed the lights. My heart was in my throat. I rolled down the window and slunk down in the seat. Bushes obscured the intersection of Hiways 29 and 98. He roared up to the intersection; I knew he was wondering if I had turned right or left. He stayed there for a few minutes. I could feel his anger, as he revved his motor. He finally turned right, going toward Hattiesburg.
I spent 20 minutes hiding in that driveway. Maybe he had pulled up somewhere and was watching for me. I finally headed for home looking in the rear view mirror all the way. Not long after, a guy driving a log truck blocked Highway 29, kidnapped a female who stopped, and in broad daylight, took her into the woods, raped and killed her. Her father found her body. The driver was sent to death row. It's speculation on my part, but I can't help but believe it was the same guy who followed me that night.
Susil
