Talk the Talk

If it weren't for his daughter, this father might never have overcome his fear of public speaking.

By David May, West Seneca, New York

In this article:

My wife, Lynette, was flipping through the pile of mail on the kitchen counter. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, waving an envelope while she scanned its contents.

The letter.

I’ve been a professional truck driver for 28 years and I’ve got more than a million-and-a-half miles under my belt without an accident—something my company, Con-way Freight, took notice of.

A couple months earlier they’d nominated me to become an America’s Road Team Captain, the highest honor for a truck driver. There are more than three million drivers in the country, and just 30 finalists compete in Washington, D.C., for a dozen Captain positions.

The winners travel across the country, talking to the public about transportation and road safety. It was a title I’d dreamed of for years—and that letter was my invitation to the finals.

When I read, “Congratulations! You’ve been chosen…” I can’t tell you how thrilled I was. Then I froze. A big part of the competition was public speaking. I’d never given a speech in my life! And I wasn’t sure I wanted to.

I’m the quiet type—which suits a guy who spends plenty of night-shift hours alone behind the wheel. I’m comfortable there. The only public speaking I’d ever tackled was on a CB radio.

Those long miles at night can get lonely—especially in a dark and frozen western New York winter—and it’s nice to hear another voice on the road. But chatting on my CB didn’t mean I was ready to get up in front of the industry’s leaders—the best of the best—and give a presentation, even if
it was my only chance at becoming a Captain.

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Just imagining myself standing behind a podium, all eyes on me, sent my pulse into overdrive. So I’d put the letter aside. But I guess something in me couldn’t quite throw it away.

That’s why Lynette found it buried in a stack of mail. She finished reading the letter and turned to me. “This is so exciting, David!”

“I know, honey, but…”

“But what? This is your dream!”

“It’s just…I can’t do it. I’m too afraid to speak in front of all those people.”

Lynette wasn’t listening. She’d rounded up our kids. “Daddy has a chance to become an America’s Road Team Captain,” she announced. “Now he has to go to Washington and present a speech.”

I almost passed out hearing her say those words.