Initially, K&B Transportation presented a reasonably attractive package. The pay was competitive enough, the equipment was generally well-maintained, and for my specific situation, the home time was a significant perk. Living in the right location and being in a salaried position meant I enjoyed considerable time off, including paid days. Perhaps the most unusual reason for my initial loyalty was a sense of perceived stability. Amidst anxieties about economic uncertainty and global events, working for a major food hauling company serving a national food producer seemed like a secure choice. The logic was simple: people always need food, so my job should be safe.
However, as time went on, the foundations of this decision began to erode. The world didn’t end in 2012, or any year since, and by late 2021, I started to re-evaluate my priorities. The question became: “Is this really how I want to spend the majority of my working life?” The downsides, which were initially overlooked or rationalized, began to outweigh the perceived benefits.
One of the most significant drawbacks, common in food hauling, was the erratic schedule. This inconsistency took a toll on both my physical and mental health. Reefer driving, while offering some earning potential, doesn’t typically reach the top-tier pay grades in the trucking industry. While some reefer companies might advertise earnings of $100k, achieving that often demands an unsustainable workload. Furthermore, the promise of “no-touch” freight, while seemingly appealing, contributes to a sedentary lifestyle, which is far from ideal for long-term health, especially in a job that is already inherently inactive.
But the biggest issue, and what ultimately led to my departure, was the pervasive lack of trust and respect within K&B’s company culture. Despite consistent excellent performance and unwavering loyalty, drivers at K&B are often treated as if they are perpetually rookies. The unspoken motto seemed to be: “You are always a rookie at K&B – and we will remind you of it constantly.” This environment, regardless of your dedication or track record, erodes self-respect.
Let me illustrate this with a simple example. Consider something as basic as truck maintenance and cleanliness. Surprisingly, only about one in six or seven trucks were equipped with a broom. Even among those, half seemed to be merely decorative. The constant, frustrating, and frankly disrespectful interactions over such basic issues are difficult to fully convey without triggering unpleasant memories. Like the therapist in “Rick n Morty,” I often found myself thinking, “I am better than this,” after each absurd and demeaning encounter.
Over nearly eight years, my record at K&B was impeccable: zero CSA violations, perfect attendance, perfect on-time delivery, and consistently going the extra mile, even as a salaried employee. Yet, despite this exemplary performance, I faced daily micro-management and was constantly reminded of the most basic procedures, or even accused of “wasting time” for essential tasks like cleaning a filthy, blood-soaked trailer or thoroughly inspecting and reporting damaged equipment. I was also the only driver who diligently maintained a seal record with signatures, a crucial step in the chain of custody, in my opinion.
Even the process of leaving K&B was unnecessarily complicated and disrespectful. After completing a full two-week notice, working all scheduled days, and then spending two additional days stranded in a hotel room in South Sioux City, Nebraska, while they figured out the logistics of my departure, the company initially planned to send me home on a 24-hour bus journey with 19 stops – despite initial promises of a flight home when hired. It was only after I pointed out, in no uncertain terms, that this kind of treatment was precisely why K&B had a 2.5-star online reputation, that the Director of Safety intervened and arranged a plane ticket. This incident highlighted a significant disconnect between upper management and the realities faced by drivers, as well as a lack of basic interpersonal skills at the operational level.
In my final two months at K&B, I was offered a local day job, described as “about 9 hours per day.” In reality, it consistently stretched to 14 hours or more, and maintaining even that workload required cutting corners and neglecting responsibilities, a practice common among other drivers. Attempts to negotiate a more reasonable schedule or workload were futile, while I was acutely aware that comparable hours at companies like Dayton Freight or Old Dominion would yield significantly higher earnings – approximately a thousand dollars more per week. These final months proved to be the breaking point.
When I finally resigned from K&B Transportation, I was experiencing burnout and a decline in both physical and mental well-being. The insidious nature of this deterioration is something I now recognize all too well. I decided to take some time off to recover, which ultimately extended into an unplanned year of unemployment – a story for another time.
Ultimately, I take responsibility for my choices and the length of time I stayed at K&B. I should have prioritized self-care, been less risk-averse regarding economic anxieties, and valued my self-respect more highly. However, as they say, better late than never.
Today, I am employed in a flatbedding position with Fraley and Schilling, hauling steel and aluminum for major companies like Alcoa, Nucor, US Steel, and Novelis. This job is physically demanding, comes with greater responsibility, and, importantly, is significantly more financially rewarding. Having been with Fraley and Schilling for five months now, I can confidently say it’s a vastly different and more positive experience. Perhaps a six-month review in the “Good Company” forum is in order soon.
After a year away, I’m back in the online conversation. I hope everyone is doing well and actively seeking out the best opportunities in this industry – let’s make the most of them while we can.
