Highways and Byways: The Boss Retires (Part 2 of 2)

By Maik Strosahl

[Part 1 appeared on June 1. Sorry for the long wait for Part 2.]

My overactive imagination has a tendency to read more into what is right before me as I play out the many possibilities of everyday situations. Amazing things can happen, great moments can be made, even if you only dream them up. But often I discover the simple things become my favorite memories.

A brand new International parked at the entrance
to Werner Park—home of the AAA Omaha Storm Chasers

    When Nick and I got to the ballpark for the festivities around C.L. Werner’s retirement, I was still really unsure as to why I was included. As I stated before, most of the time those kinds of events are reserved for those who have been with the company for many years and have driven millions of safe miles. I had only been around for three years at that point and, while not being a careless driver, I had had a couple of safety incidents I had to learn from.  Yet here I was at Werner Park, standing among the giants of the Werner fleet.

Nick in front of the special Storm Chaser trailer

    My mind explored the possibilities: maybe a driver was chosen to receive their own rig, one starting their career as another is wrapping his up, handing over the keys to a brand new Peterbuilt—perhaps with a special commemorative paint job. And could that random person be me, by chance? The only condition for transfer of ownership being a stint just beyond the outfield fence, pulling on the highway horn to celebrate a home team score and a final blast when the game is won. Who really knows what could happen?

Trailer doors for the Storm Chaser Special—please don’t tailgate!

    At the entrance they had a semi with a specially painted trailer. They also had a statue of Bob Gibson, Hall of Fame pitcher for the St. Louis Cardinals from 1959-1975. Bob grew up in Omaha and went to school at nearby Creighton University before wowing the crowds at Busch Stadium.

Bob Gibson statue on permanent display at Werner Park

    Nick and I went through the gates of the stadium a few hours before the game first to participate in the Werner company picnic. I have a habit that Nick tends to hate—starting conversations with complete strangers. We enjoyed a fine boxed dinner with two different families who had been with the corporate office for many years.

Main scoreboard in outfield at Werner Park

    After eating, we got a chance to walk around the park. Just behind the scoreboard was a whiffle ball diamond. Several kids were there wandering around, and we helped them to start a little game where everybody got to hit with some coaching and no one really kept the score.
    As the game got closer, the clouds were starting to threaten. They might not get this game in. Nick suggested we play catch in the grass behind the scoreboard. (Yes, we brought our gloves from home—always prepared for a catch or a foul ball during the game. ) And while the time passed between throws, even the occasional errant throw chased on down the hill, we talked. Nothing deep, but just an honest exchange between a boy growing up and the man privileged to be there for a large part of his youth.
    We wrapped up our catch as we heard the announcer inviting all to stand for the anthem and made our way to the grandstands and the corporate suites with the box seats. More food for all the million milers—Nick and I also had our share.
    Very early in the game, the visiting team Number 56 hit a home run against the Storm Chasers. We took this as an omen, since 56 is usually a celebrated number in Werner lore—the year the company was founded.
    A lady with a microphone walked up to me and asked if I would participate in one of the scoreboard games. Animated sausages were about to race and I had to predict the winner. Wouldn’t you know, I got it right, receiving a gift certificate for a local coffee shop for my time.

A chalk drawing to honor Mr. Werner and his 65 years
on the sidewalk inside Werner Park

    We finally came across Mr. Werner as a group was leading him to another photo opportunity. I got to say hi as he blankly acknowledged me, shook my hand, and continued down the stairs. Nick and I went to our seats.
    And that was when the Storm Chasers ran, dodging the rain as it sent everyone for cover. A check of the radar showed it would continue for hours, so the game was called a washout.
    Most scattered immediately to their cars. We checked out the upper deck of the suites to see what was left to explore. I ran into the new president and exchanged brief pleasantries. I asked if he drank coffee and gave him my gift card, since I don’t partake of the bean. He accepted and wandered away.
    Nick and I had a while to wait for a shuttle, so we retreated to the corporate suite for some more snacks and light conversation. Finally we braved the tempest out to get our ride back to the terminal.
    Nothing earth-shaking happened the rest of the way and we got back to my truck for the night, quickly changing from our soaked clothes and climbing into our bunks.
    I still don’t know why I was included, but as I thought later about the day, I really did get a great gift that day. No, I didn’t get a new truck or another picture with the great man himself thanking me for my efforts for Werner Enterprises, but I did get to spend some quality time with a great kid, making some memories I won’t soon forget.

Nick and me in the belly of an old Air Force plane
(a story for another day, but I thought this was a better photo
of the two of us without the masks we wore to the park)

Thank you, Nick! I had a blast and I hope you enjoyed yourself too!

Copyright © 2022 by Maik Strosahl Michael E. Strosahl has focused on poetry for over twenty years, during which time he served a term as President of the Poetry Society of Indiana. He relocated to Jefferson City, Missouri, in 2018 and currently co-hosts a writers group there.