At the Roso Laundromat with an interesting character

by Jeff Olsen

At 69, Rick Andersen who drives out of Austin, Minnesota, and had recently made a delivery to Polaris, stood out in the crowd.

He climbed out of his orange Peterbilt semi and would be safe anywhere in deer hunting country.

It's bright orange.

He wasn't looking to chat, just to get his laundry washed and dried, and get back on the road.

He won't ever aspire to be a jockey unless he is racing on an elephant. He is not a scrawny guy.

scrawny guy.

Trucking is his specialty.

Play some football down in Austin as a kid?

"Nope, I was a farm kid. No time for sports. Too much work to do."

He is a 1973 Austin High School graduate and has been trucking for 46 years while racking up close to five million miles during his career.

After high school, he joined the Army for three years.

What was your MOS?

"94 Bravo - a plain and simple cook."

Ever cook for a general?

"No, but I was a young NCO and an E-5 in 18 months."

He took his basic in Fort Jackson, South Carolina, his AIT at Fort Lee, Virginia, and then his permanent duty station was Fort Hood, Texas.

"I went in '75 and came out in '78. I had worked as a laborer after I got out of high school. I got into trucking after I got out of the Army."

He later ran air freight out of Minneapolis from 1996 to 2009.

He's now a contractor for Halvor Lines out of Superior, Wisconsin.

Make good money?

"You make a living," said Mr. Andersen, who almost laughed when asked a simple question.

Find good places to eat?

"You don't. It's all fast foods. Sometimes, I'll pull in by a mall and go into a restaurant there."

Closing in on 70, Rick is counting down the days.

"My wife is down in Austin and our kids are grown-up. I've got grandkids."

Directly north of Rod Bergstrom's only laundromat in Roseau was his colorful truck.

You lease it?

"It's my truck - a Peterbilt 379," he said, adding that it's paid for and has a million and a half miles on it.

"I've been everywhere. I ran a reefer for years out to the East Coast meat markets in Boston and the Bronx.

Ever been mugged?

"I was stabbed on my first trip to New York City in 1982 in lower Manhattan across the street from the police station.

Rick hasn't forget that incident.

"I got robbed right in front of the police station at 11 in the morning."

It's still vivid.

"There were three of them and two of them came up on me between another truck.

"The guy said to me, 'You got change for a twenty?' and I said, 'I ain't got no change.' The guy from behind stuck the knife in my back and said, 'Pull it out of your pocket,' and I did. They were white guys."

The only good thing is the stick-up man didn't really jab the knife into his lower back.

"There was a little bit of blood."

He wanted Rick's money and the odds weren't in Rick's favor.

"He took my wallet and took the money out and said, 'I don't want this shit' and threw the wallet. After he left, I went over and picked it up."

He had been waiting to get into the dock at a company called Celebrity Foods.

"A guy said, 'You're bleeding.' but I didn't go to the hospital."

That was his first encounter with a street thug.

"I ran to New York City every week for five and a half years out of Austin with four to six drops."

He's smiling these days as he's on the downslide.

"Less than a year to go."

He isn't planning to sell his 2006 Peterbilt rig just yet. It's been his home away from home.

It was suggested that he might make some extra runs after retiring.

"After 46 years, it'll probably be enough."

Still, he likes his truck.

"It's got all the comforts of home. It has a shower, too.

But it's time to get out.

Fuel is his biggest expense.

"And then comes parts, and labor is through the roof."

He was walking over to his truck and a small mutt had its face up against the glass.

"That's Sage. She's a lop-eared York terrier. She's been riding with me for a couple of years. It's actually my wife's dog. I had a German shepherd that rode with me ever since she was six weeks old, but she doesn't want to go on the truck anymore. She'd rather stay on the couch and watch TV."With the pooch, he usually drives about three and half hour and then, as he explained it, "I kick the tires" and the pooch does its job."

Inside his Peterbilt, there's more walking and standing room than the usual semis.

He's driven close to five million miles in 46 years.

Any accidents?

"I had one accident when the brakes failed and it was a recall but they hadn't gotten it in the shop yet. It wasn't a serious accident."

Nor was the knife in his back.

"On one side was Celebrity Foods and on the other side of the same building was the New York City precinct, and that's where they kept the horses for Central Park."

Maybe the cops were on a long coffee break and never looked out to see a guy getting robbed.

Mr. Rick Anderson didn't have to worry about that in Roseau.

Before he left town, he was asked if he'd ever been interviewed in those 46 years on the road across America.

"I haven't," he said.

He has now.