Woman on the Move

Abstract

Typically, men who drive trucks grew up playing with them. “Hot Wheels,” “Big Wheels,” Tonka Toys, and miniature conveyances of every description easily capture a male child’s heart. Eileen Sullivan had no childhood trucks; she had five children, and had fourteen years service as a waitress before she decided to step into a big rig. Teamster women were not welcome, in the summer of 1978, when she showed up for her first day on the job. An apprentice with a Class 1 commercial driver’s license in her future, she was determined to succeed:

Ten minutes after I arrived on the job site, I was assigned to a huge 10-wheel dump truck. The foreman wanted to “see what I could do.” So my formal training began with … get in the truck! Even with limited instructions from the foreman and the assigned driver, I took to the job like a duck to water. This seemed to infuriate them, and they repeatedly assured me that I would not be able to handle this job.

The rest of the week didn’t go as well as the first day. I was assigned to different drivers every day as their “helper.” The pace of the day depended on the disposition of the driver. Not a single day passed without me being told that I wasn’t going to make it here, and not to make a fool of myself by thinking I could. One driver removed the passenger seat in his truck and replaced it with his tool box. That day, I sat on the tool box for more than eight hours, never stopping for bathroom breaks or lunch. He relieved himself on the side of the road or between the tires (which was the most common place for drivers to urinate) and he had his lunch with him.