There’s so much good about trucking, and so many interesting people doing it well, that we prefer to leave the whining to other guys. We’ve mostly done that, and we’ll continue to avoid playing the easy hand. It’s just plain right.

We’re neither blind nor deaf, though, so when I heard about this particular story I’m about to relate, I realized it held important lessons for all of us.

It’s about a real situation that has a familiar ring to it. Call it a cautionary tale, but with an inspiring final scene that re-affirms my utter faith that trucking is populated almost entirely by very good people. Plus a couple of shysters.

Scene one: A small trucking outfit turns from good to bad almost overnight and leaves a few owner-operators along with a couple of company drivers high and dry. They’re all hurting in a big way, even though they all found other work eventually. At least one guy lost his truck in the process — not to mention his personal pickup and even his cell phone. Like some of the others, he’s still owed almost $30,000.

Scene two, cut to the past: We had written about this particular fellow, who’s a very nice guy and by all accounts a very good trucker, in an issue of highwaySTAR, our magazine for over-the-road drivers, when things were perfectly rosy in his trucking life. Naturally, we mentioned the name of the company he hauled for and there was a sentence about typical destinations, but we wrote no more than that about the outfit in question. Still, in some eyes, mere mention in a magazine seems like tacit approval.

Scene three: Indeed, one reader looked at that article and thought, ‘If that company’s good enough for him, it’s good enough for me’. Better yet, the yard was close to home. So, being between gigs, he applied for an owner-operator spot at Carrier X. He did three long-haul runs, but then had to struggle like mad to get paid for just one of them — a month after the fact. With weird nonsensical deductions on his statement and all.

Scene four, cut back to the present: This trucker’s wife sends me an e-mail describing the situation, and almost blaming us for “recommending” the carrier in question. I gently claim innocence, explaining that the original story was about the owner-operator, not the company. Besides, at that point all was well. Still, I feel bad. She’s at her wit’s end, scurrying around trying to collect what’s owed her husband for those other two trips. Luckily, they’ve kept the truck, but they’re still short a few grand. And now she can’t find the company owner. He’s closed up shop all of a sudden and gone to ground. The phone’s disconnected, his house is empty, the guy’s disappeared.

Scene five: I try to call the fellow who was the subject of the original story but his phones don’t work either. Eventually he calls me and tells me what’s been going on. It’s a horror story and he’s been wiped right out, though he’s managed to get another driving job.

Scene six: I get a call from a woman who’s been designated the main contact for this small group of owner-ops and employee drivers who were given the shaft so expertly. Her husband was one of the shaftees, but they too managed to keep their truck because they had a little dough set aside for emergencies. He’s owed something like $20,000. She fills in some of the gaps in the story, explaining that a lawyer says they’ll get nowhere trying to sue. His suggestion? Go to the police, to the fraud squad in particular. But the cops, though sympathetic and willing to help, say they don’t have the resources to get an investigation off the ground. The truckers themselves will have to do the initial legwork and fact-gathering.

And that’s where it sits right now. No charges have been laid, and may never be. I don’t yet have all the facts, can’t find the company owner to hear his tale, and so I can’t name names for fear of legal reprisals. I’ll write the full story some time soon, but for now a few simple lessons for owner-operators will have to do:

1. Unless it’s a big and well-known company you’re looking to work for, learn all you can about a prospective employer. These truckers say they’ve discovered that the shyster actually has a long history of similar treachery. Who knew?

2. Don’t assume too much in what you read. Do your own research unless we very specifically offer some kind of recommendation, which won’t be often.

3. Try very hard to maintain a rainy-day nest egg in case the worst happens.

And what about the inspiring final scene? Well, our story subject saw the repo man take his truck away, but when he told a former employer about his plight, that company not only gave him a job, they also bought his truck back for him. Goes a long way to restoring your faith, doesn’t it?