As I approached the intersection, I saw you sitting there to my right at the stop sign. I did not have a stop sign, but I slowed none-the-less. I scanned and searched the intersection for anyone who might fail to stop and looked at you. You looked at me. You were completely stopped. It was a 55 mph speed zone and I had probably slowed to about 40-45 mph at this time. All was well, and I proceeded cautiously. I was very surprised when you decided to go ahead - to make your right turn - right in front of me! I don't know what possessed you to do this - I'm moving relatively slowly but I also have 80,000 pounds behind me and now you've put your little 2000 pound car directly in my path.

 

Oncoming cars prevent me from going left and to my right is a very steep, rocky ditch. I am on the brakes - hard - but can't put them to the floor.

In an air braked vehicle without ABS, putting the brake to the floor is a fast invitation to a jackknife. If the trailer swung into oncoming traffic, there'd be nothing saved by the maneuver. For the lack of a better option, I'm staying on the brakes and I'm praying, praying so hard that I don't wipe you out, annihilate your family, run right over the top of your little car. Everything is moving in slow motion - I'm staring into the big beautiful eyes of your two little children in the back seat. They seem to notice that this very big truck is an inch off your bumper, yet you are busy talking to your passenger and don't seem to have the slightest idea of the fight I'm fighting for your life.

 

I may have to choose between running you over and taking the steep ditch and it's a choice I've always known, since the day I got into one of these trucks, that I might have to make. I'm so angry that you've put me into this position. If I run you over, I will most likely live and you, your passenger and your two sweet, beautiful, innocent children will surely die. If I take the ditch, I will likely die.