In the 1930s, the booming trucking industry had two problems. Railroads were heatedly protesting unfair competition, and the public was complaining that trucks were monopolizing and ruining the roads. History records that the industry was as successful at allaying public fears as it was eliminating competition from the railroads.

A public relations campaign backed by some tough self-regulation and genuine good will persuaded the public to accept and appreciate the gentleman truck driver. Trucks were subjected to strict maintenance schedules. Drivers were given uniforms, training and supervision. One of the largest trucking companies even had its own highway patrol system. There were similar expectations for drivers in the 1960s when I drove a straight truck. I was taught a code of highway courtesy that went beyond normal traffic laws.

Most aggregate producing companies do not operate their own on-highway fleets. But some that do, like Florida's Rinker Materials, still adhere to the standards set in the 1930s. The company has strict maintenance requirements and such safety rules as using daytime running lights — both employee drivers and contract owner/operators must follow these rules. Rinker also uses employees in unmarked cars to cruise the highways looking for dangerous driving.

I don't drive a large truck anymore, but I take Interstate 80/94 between Illinois and Indiana four days a week. It's an interesting stretch of highway. Nearing Indiana one is greeted by two small white crosses on the side of the road memorializing a mother and child who were crushed when they stopped and the semi behind them didn't. I know all about this because a faculty member in our department was there when it happened, and she tells us about it and how dangerous trucks are every chance she gets.

I don't really need to hear this, though, because I have trucks tailgating me every time I take I-80/94. And I had my own near-death experience when a semi with no turn signal pivoted over the top of my Honda and dragged me through an intersection. I never bring such incidents up in conversation because I have learned that everyone has a horror story about a truck, and I'm tired of listening to them.

The trucking industry pays a heavy burden in taxes, but it pretty much has its way with legislators when it comes to safety. Politicians won't be so accommodating if highway safety becomes a public issue again. Look at what happened to the railroads. Public outcry resulted in hundreds of laws restricting rail operations in the early 20th Century. And don't think the public isn't influential anymore. Look at the impact a group of citizens called Mothers Against Drunk Driving had on another annoying issue involving the roads. Will someone like my colleague start an anti-trucking public interest group?

The industry needs to deal with the public safety issue now before a public debate ensues over how fast trucks should travel, who can drive them, how big they can be, which lanes they can and can't use, and what hours they can operate. In Wisconsin, aggregate producers halted production for a half day and footed the bill to hold a safety seminar for contract drivers. Organizers expected about 250 drivers — 450 showed up (see Rock Products Construction & Mining Trucks Supplement, June 2003).

The rest of the aggregate industry can take similar steps to improve highway safety. And this time, a public relations campaign backed by tough self-regulation and genuine good will may help the public accept the gentleman aggregate producer.

Thomas Roach, Ph.D, has 25 years in the communication's field, holding corporate and academic positions. He is currently a tenured professor of communication. He can be reached by e-mail at thomasjroach@hotmail.com

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